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NERO 



BY THE SAME AUTHOR. 



A Xew Edition, being the Second, 

GRAFFITI D'lTALI A. 

In Crown Octavo. 



NERO 



AN HISTORICAL PLAY 



BY 

■J- ^ 

W? W/ STORY 
k 









WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SONS 

EDINBURGH AND LONDON 

SCRIBNER, WELFORD, & ARMSTRONG 

NEW YORK: MDCCCLXXV 



If 



All Rights reserved 



,? 7 r 



TO 

MRS FRANCES ANN KEMBLE. 



DEAR MRS KEMBLE, 

This play, which was written in the summer of 
18J2, had been laid aside in my desk, when I had the pleas- 
ure of meeting you in Rome in the winter of 18J3-J4. The 
story of Nero, as recorded by ancient writers, and especially 
in the vivid sketch of Suetonius, and the more elaborated 
and highly-coloured pages of Tacitus, had long haunted my 
mind as a powerful subject for dramatic treatment, and T 
coitld not rest till I had tried my ha7id at it. Bitt the 
enthusiasm of writing once over, ?nany were the doubts that 
assailed me as to my own success in treati?ig it, and as to 
the interest it might have for the public. A mans judg- 
ment upon his own work is a blind one j and having confi- 
dence in your critical ability, as well as in your frank 
honesty, I asked you to do me the favour to hear me read it, 
determined in my own mind to abide by yotir decision as to 
whether I should publish it or not. . You kindly consented 
to my request; and a small company offrie?tds {ft, though 
few) met in your apartment in Rome to hear it. It was a 
winter s evening — the key was turned in the door against 
all the world — and the reading began. You will remember 



VI DEDICATION. 

how it was suddeizly interrupted by a shock of 
which rattled the windows and shook the house in strange 
accord with the story. At its conclusion you encouraged 
me to print it. It belongs, therefore, to youj for without 
your ki?id words it is doubtful whether it would ever have 
been given to the public. I hope you will allow me to con- 
nect your name with it, and at the same time to express my 
high sense of your genius, and my warm appreciation of 
your constant friendship and kindness to me a?id mine. I 
do not, however, mean to make you responsible for it, know- 
ing well how the best judgment is warped by friendship j 
nor do I mean to intimate that I have yielded to friendly 
pressure against my own judgment. I accept the respon- 
sibility myself, — while cordially thanking you for your 
kindness. 

In writing this play I have striven to preserve historical 
truth, and to present a picture of a period characterised 
by cruelties and crimes which would not now be tolerated, 
and by passions so violent and unrestrained, that they seem 
to bear the brand of insanity. How far I have succeeded 
others must decide j but I shotild have less question of the 
success of this play if it cotild be read or acted by you, for 
by the mastery of your art you, could throw over it a glam- 
our which would co7iceal its defects, vivify its dulness, and 
heighten its merits. 

Your faithful and obliged 

W. W. STORY. 



DRAMATIS PERSONS. 






> Tutors of Nero. 



Nero. 

Britannicus. 

Otho. 

Galba. 

C. Julius Vindex, Propraetor in Spain. 

L. Ann^eus Seneca, 

Afranius Burrhus, Praefect of Guards, 

Sophonius Tigellinus, Favourite of Nero. 

Titus Vinius, Proconsul of Spain. 

Corn. Laco, Friend of Galba. 

Nymphidius Sabinus, Prefect of Praet. Guards. 

Anicetus, Admiral of Fleet. 

Galerius Trochalus, ) 

> Consuls. 
Silius Italicus, ) 

Helius. 

Granius, Tribune. 

C. Calp. Piso, Leader of Conspirators. 

Fenius Rufus, Senator, 

Subrius Flavus, Tribune of Guard, 

_ _ „ V Conspirators against 

Flavius Sc^evinus, Senator, ) ^ 

Nero 
Antonius Natalis, Roman Knight, 

Plaut. Lateranus, Senator, 

Lucan. 

Ann^us Statius, 

Xenophon, 



> Physicic 



Vlll 



DRAMATIS PERSONS. 



Milichus, Freedman of Scaevinus. 

Agerinus, Freedman of Agrippina. 

Sporus, 

Epaphroditus, 

Menecrates, 

Phaon, 



Freed men of Nero. 



Agrippina, Mother of Nero. 

Octavia, Wife of Nero. 

PoppiEA, Mistress, afterwards Wife of Nero. 

Acerronia, Friend of Agrippina. 

Pompeia Paulina, Wife of Seneca. 

Guards, Soldiers, Attendants, Servants, &c 



NERO. 



ACT I. 

Scene I. — Ante-chamber of Imperial Palace. 

Narcissus and Burrhus. 

Bur. Welcome, Narcissus ! You are then returned ! 
And is your health restored ? 

JVar. Of body — yes ; 

But not of mind. Unwillingly I went, 
Foreboding evil, and in this short month 
What changes ! — what disasters ! Claudius dead ! — 
Worse — murdered, as men say ; and in his place 
Young Nero seated : while with iron hand 
A 



NERO. [Act I. 



Stern Agrippina rules. Ah ! not in vain 
Was my worst presage — all I feared is come — 
Even quicker than I thought. 

Bur. Things have gone fast 

One touch, and all went like an avalanche. 
But Claudius brought it down upon himself 
By his own folly. Never was a man 
More mixed of qualities — half wit, half fool, 
Wise in his books, and ignorant of men ; 
A scholar and a drunkard : blundering on, 
Half dreaming, and half waking, through the world, 
He pulled his fate down by a stupid threat, 
To set Britannicus upon the throne. 
And Agrippina, startled, pushed him down 
The dark declivity of death. 

Nar. I know : 

I warned him of his danger ; but, poor man, 
He had forgot his threat within an hour, 
And nothing feared. 

Bur. But she did not forget. 

He might have threatened aught but this and lived ; 
But to touch Nero, was to touch the quick 






Scene I.] NERO. 3 

Of Agrippina's life — to threaten him 
Was fatal folly — so he paid for it. 

Nar. How say you, Burrhus, what may we expect 
'Neath this new order? better times or worse? 

Bur. Jove knows ! — not I, nor you, nor any man. 
Perhaps awhile some semblance we may see 
Of better things — till Nero shall grow up 
And show his real nature. What he is, 
Who knows ? Not I — though one may guess the fruit 
Knowing the parent tree. 

Nar. 'Tis said he shows 

A gentle disposition. You should know, 
Who are his tutors, you and Seneca. 

Bur. Ask Seneca, who stuffs him with wise words 
And moral sentences, and thinks to guide 
This tiger-cub with such weak threads of talk. 
He augurs great things from him ; as for me 
I keep my judgment. He is timid yet — 
Knows not his strength — his claws are not yet grown, 
And yet at times he snaps with right good will. 

Nar. You have small faith in him ? 

Bur. In faith, I have — 



4 NERO. [Act I. 

In him or any of his kith and kin. 

His father was a bad and cruel man : 

Violent, passionate, steeped and stained with crime ; 

So were they all, the Ahenobarbi race. 

As for his mother, could we hope from her 

He could inherit virtue ? From each source 

The strain is tainted. 

Nar. Ay, the blood is bad. 

Yet let us hope, since nature overleaps 
At times the parent, and again renews 
Ancestral virtues, it may breed in him 
The noble spirit of Germanicus. 

Bur. He's too much like his father in his looks — 
With his red brazen hair and bull-like neck. 
Pray God he be not like his ancestor 
Of whom old Crassus said — " His head is brass, 
To fit his iron mouth and leaden heart." 

Nar. Still let us hope — we've had enough of vice. 

Bur. Hope if you will. Domitius did not hope; 
He only sneered when Agrippina showed 
This new-born son — saying, " From you and me 
What can be bred but ruin to the world." 



Scene L] NERO. 5 

Nar. And yet his first speech to the senate gave 
Good promise. It was moderate, just, and calm. 

Bur. Bah ! that was Seneca, not Nero. 

Nar. Well, 

At least that phrase of his showed a good heart 
When a death-warrant the first time he signed, 
" I wish I knew not how to write my name." 

Bur. But still he wrote it. Trust me he will write 
Or hod hereafter many a thousand more 
With no such qualms or phrases. 

Nar. In your hands 

And Seneca's I trust for better things. 

Bur. I am no prophet : what I think I say ; 
I'll do my best to help him. For all that, 
He'll have his own way, and not ours — at last. 

Nar. Say, Burrhus, was the death of Claudius 
As bad as 'tis reported ? Is it true 
That Agrippina at the banquet board, 
In presence of all guests, with baleful smile 
And hypocritic words, did poison him ? 
Did she or nature in those mushrooms hide 
The deadly essence ? I can scarce believe 



6 NERO. [Act I. 

She dared commit this crime so openly. 

Bur. What did she ever shrink from to attain 
The end she sought? 'Twas more, yes, even more 
Than rumour, which is never slow to breed 
Large growths on trivial stems, hath yet avouched. 
It was a hideous crime played like a farce — 
A shocking farce to make the blood run cold. 

Ndr. Was it so bad ? 

Bur. Nothing could well be worse. 

Hark ! there are footsteps. 'Tis the empress comes. 
This is no place for confidential talk — 
The walls have ears and eyes. Let us be off. 
I've prated now too much — beyond my wont — 
When I should better far have held my tongue. 

[Exeunt. 



Scene II. — Imperial Palace. Nero seated at a table, 
writing^ a copy of Catullus near him. 

Nero. That will not do. These lines are crabbed still. 

They rattle like coarse pebbles in one's mouth. 
By Jupiter ! how hard it is to make 



Scene II.] NERO. 7 

These easy verses ! Here I sweat and toil 
Striving in vain to torture into shape 
The unbending phrases, while, with scarce a care, 
Catullus almost seems to breathe them forth. 
From off his style how easily they run ! — 
What grace, what elegance, what facile power ! 
Just as a flower grows, with its own sweet will, 
All bloom and odour — so his poems grow. 

Enter Agrippina. Nero hides his tablets. 

Agrip. What ! writing ? Nero ! what is it you write ? 

Nero. Oh, nothing — nothing. 

Agrip. Yes, I saw you hide 

Your tablets as I entered. What is it ? 
Show me, dear Nero. Verses, are they not ? 

Nero. They are not worth your seeing; such poor 
stuff. 
Besides, they are not finished. 

Agrip. Let me see, 

And I will judge ; at least you will not find 
A kinder critic. Read them to me, pray. 

Nero. No, do not ask me. They're not finished yet. 



8 NERO. [Act. I. 

Agrip. Well, well, my boy, I'll not insist till then • 
But then you'll show them — will you not ? 

Nero. Perhaps, 

If ever they are straitened into shape. 

Agrip. Ask Seneca to help you. 

Nero. Seneca ! 

He never wrote a verse 'twas fit to read. 
His prose is fair enough : as for his verse, 
'Tis bad as mine is : on my faith I think 
'Tis even worse — 'tis crabbed as his face. 

Agrip. Poor Seneca ! he is not beautiful — 
Not an Apollo, but a wise old man — 
An excellent old man, and, as I thought, 
Accomplished in his verses. 

Nero. Yet he's old, 

That's certain ; and he's wise, too, I suppose : 
But he's a bore, as all such wise men are. 
And for his verses, they're not worth a straw. 

Agrip. And yet of all your friends I like him best 
Otho and Tigellinus and the rest 
Lead you astray. I pray you have a care 
Of all they counsel. 




Scene II.] NERO. 9 

Nero. I'll take care of them. 

Leave them alone ; don't lecture. 

Agrip. I have done. 

You've been to the gymnasium to-day ? 

Nero. Ay, for an hour ; we had such wrestling there. 
I threw Britannicus some dozen times. 
He had no chance against me. 

Agrip. The poor thing — 

How should he ? You are twice as strong as he. 
Strengthen your arms against some stronger youth. 

Nero. Oh ! that was all for sport. Look ! with this 
arm, 
Had I the cestus on, one blow of mine 
Would give him his quietus. But I fought 
With one young Dacian, training for the ring, 
And floored him once ; and all the crowd cried out, 
" Hail, Caesar ! a good blow ! good blow, by Jove ! " 
And Crespius, the old gladiator, there 
Cried out, " By Jove ! he would be one of us 
Were he not Caesar." 

Agrip. Then what did you do ? 

Nero. I gave an hour to music. 



10 



NERO. 



[Act I. 



Agrip. After that ? 

Nero. A tedious discourse from Seneca 
On metaph) T sics and philosophy. 
He bored me well with all his moral drone. 

Agrip. Give heed to all his teaching. That at least 
Is worth your learning — better far than all 
The music — (that's for girls more than for men), 
Or all the fighting — that's for pugilists 
Rather than Caesars. 

Nero. 'Tis far better sport 

Than playing Caesar ; wearying out one's life 
With tiresome business, audiences dull, 
Signing of warrants — all that sort of thing. 
Sometimes I wish 1 were not Caesar, then 
Life would be free to do just what I chose. 

Agrip. Well, leave to me all tasks that I can do. 
Please yourself, Nero — I will bear your load. 

Nero. Thanks, mother. 

Agrip. Yet be careful what you do. 

Amuse yourself, but play no foolish pranks 
To sink you in the world's esteem. Be firm, 
Devote your hours to study, seek to win 



Scene II.] NERO. I 

By noble conduct the applause of Rome. 
So shall you firmly sit upon your throne. 
Go not with low companions ; wear not out 
In foul debauch your manhood ; keep a rein 
On all you do and say, and leave to me 
The manage of the court. All I will do 
As I have ever done, dear boy, for you. 

Nero. Oh yes ! yes ! yes ! I'll leave that all to you ; 
But there you are again, preaching again. 
Nothing I hate like that. Manage the court, 
Manage all public things. Your hand is sure, 
And none could do it better. 

Agrip. My dear son, 

It is a mother's joy and pride to serve 
The child she loves. Oh what a day it was 
When, with a shout that seemed to rend the air, 
The army hailed you Csesar ! My poor heart 
Shook like the standards straining to the breeze 
With that great cheer of triumph. All my toil 
Then seemed as nothing. I had won the prize. 
Yes, in that moment's thrill of wild, sharp joy, 
I was repaid for all ; and had I died 



"Act I. 



There on the spot, I should have felt my life 

Full, satisfied, brimmed up to overflow 

With joy and triumph. One such hour as that 

Outweighs long years of common life — repays 

The struggle and the toil that gendered it ; 

And all the past pain lying dark behind, 

Shows like night's background for the lightning flash 

Of one keen vivid joy to blaze against. 

" Hail, Caesar ! Hail ! " I seem to hear that shout 

Still ringing in my ears : oft in dead night 

It startles me from sleep, and in my dreams 

Again it thrills me ; and again I stride 

With you beside me through these sounding halls, 

And feel — 'Tis ours now ! wholly yours and mine. 

Ah ! when I clasped you then within my arms 

I felt that life, whatever it might bring, 

Could never lift me up again so high. 

Never ! No, never ! For my heart was full ; 

It could not hold one other smallest drop. 

Embrace me, Nero ! — Caesar ! my grand boy ! 

Swear you will love me always — ne'er forget 

That 'twas my hand, my will, that placed you here— 



Scene IL] NERO. 13 

My foot that trampled down all obstacles — 
My heart on which you mounted to the throne. 
Love me ; I ask no more. That pays for all/ 

Nero. Be calmer, mother. I shall not forget. 

Agrip. Promise me, Nero ! 

Nero. Ay ; I promise you. 

Agrip. That's my dear boy ! Embrace me once 
again ! 
Oh, Nero ! Nero ! what were all the world 
Should you desert me ? 

Nero. Do you fear me, then, 

That with such passion you invoke my love ? 

Agrip. Ah, yes ! I fear — I fear; who would not fear, 
When all one's life is thrown upon one stake, 
That, lost, would bring disaster, ruin, death ? 
For there are evil tongues to slander me ; 
Others will strive to win from me your love — 
Seek to distort your mind, bewray your thoughts, 
And prompt you to rebel against this heart 
That only beats for you. Oh, listen not' 
To their base promptings ! Close your ears against 
Their foul suggestions. If they say with crime 



14 



NERO. 



[Act I. 



I stained my hands to place you on the throne, 
Remember 'twas for you alone I wrought ; 
For what had I to gain by any move — 
What was there more for me ? I stood as high 
As woman could. If ever in my soul 
Ambition gnawed, is was to lift you up. 
Oh, ever keep this present in your mind ! 
Promise me, Xero. 

Nero. Ay, I will — I will. 

I know the debt I owe you. There's no need 
To insist so strongly. Chase your fears away. 

Agrip. I will. Forgive me if I seem to make 
Too close a claim. I will not keep you more. 
Where go you now ? 

Nero. To Otho. 

Agrip. Steel your heart 

Against Poppaea's charms. What do you there ? 

Nero. We sing and play. 

Agrip. Does she sing well ? I hear 

Her voice is weak, and she has little skill. 

Nero. Who says so ? 'Twas some idiot told you 
that. 



.Scene II.] NERO. 1 5 

Her voice is charming. No one here in Rome . . 
Sings half so well. 

Agrip. Indeed ! 

Nero. Her voice weak ! Ah ! 

It must have been Octavia told you that. 

Agrip. Octavia ? No ! 

Nero. Who was it ? 

Agrip. On my word 

I cannot say. 

Nero. It must have been some fool 

Who knows not how to sing ; or else, perhaps, 
Some jealous woman. Why do women speak 
Such slanders of each other ? 

Agrip. Who can tell ? 

Nero. Farewell, my mother. Have I leave to go ? 

Agrip. Farewell, dear Nero ! Go, enjoy yourself, 
But fall not captive to Poppsea's charms. 

Nero. No fear of that. Farewell ! 

[Exit Nero. 

Agrip. Ah, well ! Ah, well ! 

Can any one on earth be quite content ? 
Why should I thus torment myself with fears ? 



\6 



NERO. 



[Act I. 



All things seem smooth at last. But still I fear ; 
Though nothing tangible— no real thing 
Now seems to threaten. I'll not think of it. 
What if Poppsea win him, and with wiles 
Possess his spirit, and then strive to mount 
Upon my bended neck into my place ? 
Nonsense ! She would not dare. Let her but try. 
Who's there ? Ah ! Seneca ! 



Sen. 



Seneca enters. 

Salve, my liege ! 



Agrip. I know your news ! The Senate means to 
send 
A formal deputation to commend 
Our Caesar for his policy of state, 
And for his wise and liberal government. 
Is't not so, Seneca ? 

Sen. Madame, it is. 

Since Nero mounted to the throne, the change 
From the loose conduct of the previous time 
To firm and steady guidance shows so clear, 
The Senate seek to mark it by some sign 



Scene II] NERO. 1 7 

Of outward approbation. To this end, 

A deputation of grave senators — 

Men of high note and birth — will wait on him, 

To vouch their joy at this most grateful change. 

Agrip. When do they come ? 

Sen. To-morrow, at high 

noon. 

Agrip. Is Caesar ready to receive them then ? 
Has he his speech prepared? 

Sen. Madame, he has. 

Agrip. And have you read it ? — Is it well advised ? 

Sen. I have with strictest care gone over it, 
Added suggestions, changes ; in its form 
Somewhat arranged it, till to me it seems 
Most fitting — if he only keeps to it. 

Agrip. Be sure he does. I, too, will counsel him. 
Have you the draft of it ? 

Sen. 'Tis in my room. 

Agrip. See that you send it to me then to-day. 

Sen. Madame, I will. 

Agrip. All seems to promise well. 

If Nero will but keep a steady rein 
B 



18 NERO. [Act I. 

On all his conduct, he may live to be 
The greatest of our Caesars. Look to it, 
My Seneca, I trust so much to you. 
He yet is young and plastic, and I think 
We two may mould him to a noble form. 

Sen. Madame, I strive to fill his mind with thoughts 
Fit for his station, and to fire his soul 
With high ambitions. He is young as yet, 
And sometimes strains against the leash, but still 
Not more than any youth ; nor you, nor I 
Would wish to see his youthful fire stamped out. 
To you he yields the reins, and 'tis your hand 
Has given firmness to his government. 
Happy the youth with such a hand to guide. 

Agrip. So, then, the Senate is indeed content ? 
That pleases me. How feels the populace ? 

Sen. Nero has won their perfect confidence 
By his kind manners and his gracious acts. 
They all throw up their caps with joyous shouts, 
Whene'er they see him • and with such frank grace, 
Such modest bearing, their applause he takes, 
He wins new favour from them every day. 



Scene II] NERO. 1 9 

In every street, in every public square, 
In every group, you hear with one assent 
The praise of Cassar, and rejoicings bold 
That Claudius reigns no more. If, at the first, 
Whispers were heard, and dubious faces seen, 
That is gone by. The weight of doubt and fear 
Seems lifted from the State, and hope sits light 
In every heart, as if a darkening cloud 
Had passed, and sunshine settled over Rome. 

Agrip. This glads my heart ; and yet, the populace 
Is ever fickle, veering like a vane 
To every varying current in the air. 
How is the army ? That the anchor is 
Unto the ship of state. If that is firm, 
All things are firm. 

Sen. They, too, rejoice in him. 

His strength, — his practice of athletic arts, — 
His easy manners, — his light-hearted whims, — 
All please the soldiers. When old Claudius went, 
Half dreaming, with abstracted look, slow walk, 
And awkward presence, through the camp, a smile, 
Not over-flattering, ever followed him ; 



20 NERO. [Act I. 

But when our Nero, with his sunny hair, 
Strong as a Hercules, with sinewy arms, 
Quick gait, and laughing voice, among them goes, 
Saluting this one with a jest, and this 
With artful praise ; and trying now and then 
Like some strong boy, rejoicing in his strength, 
The wrestler's grip, to test which is the best, 
The whole camp follows him, and shout on shout 
Makes the air ring. Yes ! he has won them all. 

Agrip. He lacks in dignity : it is his wont 
Over familiar with all men to be. 
That pays at first, perhaps, but fails at last. 
Men laugh at first with one who treats them thus ; 
Then lose respect ; and end with open jeer. 
He should be cautious not to overstep 
The limits of his rank. Kind courtesy 
Is ever winning, till it pass beyond 
The bounds of self-respect and dignity. 
I would not have him formal, stern, and stiff, 
Nor yet too free and liberal of himself. 
We must expect to take just as we give. 
Weak condescension often tends to breed 



Scene II.] NERO. 21 

Presumption, licence, and destroys respect. 
Counsel him, Seneca, to alter this. 

Sen. It is his nature, and thus far it works 
To win him friends. He slowly can withdraw 
If need there be. 

Agrip. Let him not go too far. 

Does this please Burrhus ? He's a soldier rough, 
And knows the army. Let him drop a hint, 
And Nero will take heed, perhaps, of him, 
More than of you and me, in such a case. 

Sen. Madame, I'll speak with him. 

Agrip. I pray you, do. 

I would not in the freshness of his reign, 
Even on the threshold, he should miss a step. 
We, then, must keep him straight in outward forms ; 
And as for weightier things, my hand meanwhile 
Shall hold the helm of State and steer for him. 



22 



NERO. 



Scene III. — Hall in Palace. 

Tigellinus and Gladiators. 

Tigel. Try not your strength too rudely, if you place 
A value on your lives. You two are here 
To try a fall with him. Fall underneath ! 

\st Glad. I shall, my lord. 

Tigel. But strain him to his best ; 

Yield not too lightly, or 'twill anger him ; 
He knows your strength. 

ist Glad. I understand, my lord. 

Tigel. (to 2d Glad.) And you, forget not that you 
drive him hard. 
Put him to all he knows — to his last fence. 
But — silence ! — there he comes. 



Nero enters. 

Nero. Salve, good friends ! 

Both. Salve, great Csesar ! 

Nero. Let me see your arm. 

What thews ! — what muscle ! — why, 'tis hard as steel ! 



Scene III.] NERO. 23 

Mine, too, look, 'tis as large almost as yours. 

1st Glad. 5 Tis a strong arm — it needs but exercise 
To make it serve the very best of us. 
Mine was not half so firm when I was young. 
Nero. Well ! shall we try a bout ? 
1st Glad. If you command. 

[They wrestle. After a time Nero 
throws the Gladiator. 
Tigel. Bravo ! my Caesar ! 'twas well thrown, by 

Jove ! 
Nero. You did not do your best ! 
1st Glad. I did, my lord. 

You were too quick for me at that last turn. 
You're younger ; but I think the second time 
You would not catch me thus. 

Nero. Try it again. 

[They wrestle again— Nero is thrown. 
Tigel. Your foot slipped, Csesar ! 
Nero. Ay ! this cursed floor ! 

'Twas not a fair fall. Try it once again. 

[They wrestle again. Nero throws 
the Gladiator heavily. 



24 



NERO. 



[Act I. 



i st Glad. 'Twas a rough fall. I will not try again. 
You are too young — too quick ; I'm not your match. 

Nero. Well ; let us breathe a little, and meantime 
Get the swords ready. 

2d Glad. They are here, my lord. 

Nero. What say you, Tigellinus ? This man here 
I just have thrown, is of the first force, they say ; 
Are you not, friend ? 

ist Glad. Ten prizes have I gained 

In the arena. 

Nero. Ten ? 

ist Glad. Ay, Caesar, ten ! 

Nero. Do you hear, Tigellinus ? 

Tigel. Caesar, ay ! 

The ten were not like you on whom he gained 
His victories. 

Nero. What do you mean ? You think, 

Because I'm Caesar, that he put not out 
His strength against me. 

Tigel. Nay, I meant not that. 

But neck and shoulders, Caesar, like to yours 
One does not daily meet. You are more lithe : 



Scene III] NERO. 25 

Your muscles come to play more readily. 
If he is stronger, you are quicker far. 

1st Glad. That's it — he is too quick for me by far ! 
Now, in sheer strength, I think I am the best ! — 
I ought to be, trained for these many years ; 
But Caesar has a sudden knack, a trick, 
That in an instant sets at naught my strength. 
Nero. You flatter. 

1st Glad. Nay, I flatter not. I feel 

That fall still in my back — 'twas a rough fall. 

Nero (throws him a purse of gold). Cure it with that, 

my friend. 
1st Glad. Thanks, Caesar, thanks ! 

Nero. Now for the swords — I'm breathed enough — 
the swords ! 

[Swords are brought and measured. 
2d Glad. Shall we stand thus ? 

Nero. Ay ! Are you ready ? 

Now ! 

\They fight — Nero touches his adversary. 
Nero. A touch ! 
Tigel. Stop ! 



26 NERO. [Act I. 

2d Glad. I confess it — on my arm. 

Nero. That's one ! In guard — so ! 

There's another touch. 

2d Glad. Csesar, you strike too hard for play. 

Tigel. Why, look ! 

The blood is oozing from your shoulder, there. 

2d Glad. Had Caesar's sword been steel instead of 
wood, 
I had not fought another round this month. 

Nero. I did not mean to strike so hard. Indeed, 
I'm sorry if I hurt you. 

2d Glad. Oh, 'tis naught ! 

Yet had the sword been steel, and had we stood 
On the arena's sand, that blow of yours 
Had done my business thoroughly enough. 
I should have heard that sudden yell and jeer 
From all the circle of wild eager mouths, 
Descending on me like a curse. That's all ! 
Thank heaven ! the swords are wood, and we are two. 

Nero. Here, staunch his blood — and here's my hand, 
my friend ! 
And when your shoulder's mended come again. 



Scene III.] N.E R O. 27 

Meantime, this purse : and {to attendant) set them in 

some room 
A supper ; let them have good meat and wine — 
Wine of the best, as much as they will drink. 
May you enjoy it, friends ! and now farewell! 
1st and 2d Glad. Salve, great Ctesar ! 
Nero. If you have a 

• want 
Caesar can satisfy — ask — it is yours. 
{To attendant.) See, if these men come, they have au- 
dience 
Upon the instant — at whatever time. 
Come, Tigellinus ! So again farewell ! 

\Exeimt Tigellinus and Nero. 
1st Glad. A great boy ! 

2d Glad. For a boy, he hits hard blows. 

I like it not. 

1st Glad. He paid you well. 
2d Glad. He did. 

And still I rather would strike back again 
Than have his money. When I feel the sting 
Of a sharp blow, my blood thrills till I strike 



28 NERO. [Act I. 

With all my might. But here one's hands are tied. 
Had he not been the Caesar ! 

i st Glad. Ay, my friend, 

I understand ; but still his gold rings well. 
Hark to it (throws it up) : that's a jingle worth a blow. 

2d Glad. Bah! for the blow itself, who cares for that! 
Come ! shall we trudge ? — our business here is done. 

[Exeunt. 



Scene IV. — Nero's room. 
Sexeca and Nero. 

Nero. Stand by me, Seneca. My mother's hand 
Hath won for me the throne. I owe her all, 
And yet she spies upon me over much, 
And lectures me as if I were a child. 
Give me your counsel. Shall I bend to her, 
Or shall I brave her ? 

Sen. You are Caesar now. 

Your mother only seeks your good ; but yet, 



Scene IV.] NERO. 29 

Being a mother, sees, the last of all, 
Her son has grown a man. Yet bear with her ; 
Though she outstrain her guidance — bear with her. 
'Tis these first months will make or mar your reign : 
Look that you stumble not. Her hand is sure. 
Lean much on her. 

Nero. What shall I do, good friend ? 

You are a man, and know what men expect. 

Sen. Be moderate and courteous in your acts ; 
Shun cruelty and rapine ; wear a face 
Of kindness to the Plebs ; abstain from blood ; 
Rein up your passions ; and do no man hurt : 
So shall you win full favour from the world 
That spies you closely now in these first days. 
And for the rest — though you are young and stirred 
By fiery passions — as youth ever is — 
Still strive to curb them within certain bounds. 
Excess is evil. Yet I would not preach 
Too great restriction. We are young but once. 
Be firm and wary in your public acts ; 
And for your private pleasures, so they keep 
Within due limit, you may yield to them. 



30 NERO. [Act I. 

Nero. Little I care for public acts of state 
So I my private freedom may possess ; 
Yet these my mother strictly would restrain, 
And irks me with her thraldom. She it is 
That forced my marriage with eta via. Why ? 
Reasons of state require it — so she says. 
Am I a slave, then, that I must obey ? 
Or am I Caesar ? 

Sen. None can stand so high 

That duty stands not higher. Caesar himself, 
Would he preserve his power, must also bear 
His load of duty. 

Nero. So, in faith, it seems : 

Csesar is but a slave like other men. 

Sen. Absolute freedom none on earth can know 
Beside, what is this burden you lament ? — 
That you have won and wed a noble bride, 
Pure, good, and innocent, and of lineage high. 

Nero. Good — innocent — and pure — yes, she is that : 
So is a cold, white, water-blooded fish. 
Her smile gives me a chill. She says, " I love," 
Just as a sign-post says, "Seven miles to Rome.''" 



Scene IV.] NERO. 3 1 

I have to rinse my mouth after her kiss, 
Or think of Acte just to sweeten it. 
Oh Acte ! that's another sort of fruit, 
As like her as a turnip to a peach. 
'Tis all my mother's doings, Seneca ; 
I would rebel against her, did I dare. 

Sen. Acte is beautiful. Yet have a care. 
Keep out of sight your love. 'Twere worse for all — 
You, Acte, me — ay, every one of us — 
If once the empress dreamed we sought to thwart 
Her firm-fixed purpose. If you will indulge 
Your love for Acte, do it in the dark. 

Nero, Trust me for that. She does not yet suspect. 

Sen. Make sure of it. She does not show her 
hand 
Until she strikes. Wear an obedient face ; 
Keep an obedient tongue within your lips ; 
Profess, at least, you love Octavia. 

Nero. That is impossible ; I cannot do it. 

Sen. A Caesar's earliest lesson is to feign : 
Why should you utter all you think and feel 
Like some loud-mouthed uneducated boor ? 



32 



NERO. 



[Act I. 



The face was made to veil and hide our thoughts ; 
The lips to lock the mouth from foolish speech ; 
And idle words have cost more human lives 
Than busy deeds. Keep guard on what you say, 
And ever let your acts precede your words. 

Nero. Ay, but she irks me so at times : in vain 
I seek to curb my tongue or oil my speech. 
I must break out. Silence is worse than death. 

Sen. Still seek to curb it — only boys swear out ; 
Men keep their peace. All passion when repressed 
Gives force to action — wings the arrow home 
With the strained tension of its utmost bend. 
Silence is ever strong, and talking weak ; 
And many a purpose wastes in empty words 
Which might, restrained, have gendered earnest acts. 
Gabble and Babble are but empty fools, 
But Silence is a God. They threaten most 
Who know that they are weak to work their will. 
The strong man strikes like lightning, without threat ; 
Nor lets the thunder first announce its bolt. 
But the weak woman rails and wastes in words. 
Speech is so easy ; but the word once flown, 






Scene IV.] NERO. 33 

No power of man or God can bring it back. 

On, on it goes for ever, with what brood 

The Fates may choose, born of its teeming womb. 

No, Nero, be a man ; within yourself 

Keep your own counsel. Wear a kindly face 

Unto Octavia ; and at least profess 

An outward love — whatever you may feel. 

And for the rest, where your true passions look, 

Senecio and myself will lend our aid. 

Yet all are weak against the empress' will : 

Let her not scent the trail on which you move, 

Or woe to Acte — woe to all of us ! 

Nero. May I not trust Senecio ? 

Sen. Not too far. 

He is a profligate and libertine ; 
And though at times such servants we may use, 
We should beware of trusting them too far. 
Such staffs break when we lean too hard on them. 
Better Petronius — he's of sterner stuff, 
Loose in his morals, but of sounder mind — 
He will arrange your pastimes. I am old — 
My blood is chilled — I cannot help you there. 
C 



34 NERO. [Act I. 

My head and heart are yours — use him as hands. 

Nero. I will, good Seneca. Keep watch for me, 
And shield me from my mother. 'Tis her eye, 
Her hand, her power, I fear. Shield me from her ; 
And now farewell. 

Sen. Where go you, Caesar, now ? 

Nero. Nay, do not ask, and so you will not know, 
And silence, as you say, alone is strong. 



Scene V. — Empress's room. 
Agrippina and Octavia. 



Oct. He loves me not — why should I marry him ? 

Agrip. He loves you not ! — why, what a child you are ! 
What matters love ? — 'tis but a month's disease, 
A short-lived fever of the youthful blood, 
A sharp delirium of the sense, that's all, 
For common girls to prate about — but you — 
You, Caesar's daughter, should have higher aims, 






Scene V.] NERO. 35 

Higher ambitions than to sigh and pule, 
And kiss, and languish life away for love. 

Oct. But I have no ambition. Oh that Fate 
Had placed me in a humbler, lowlier rank, 
Where I might lead a happy, peaceful life, 
Beyond the cares and turmoils of a court ! 

Agrip. Fate has not placed you there : even if you 
would, 
You cannot stoop to petty joys like these; 
You were not littered like the common crowd, 
Only to eat and sleep, and smile and play, 
Or work and starve, and toil and cry for food, 
And wear your life away, a vulgar drudge. 
No ! You were born to rule — born on the steps 
That lead up to a throne ! Will you lie there 
And weep and whine, the jeer of all the world, 
Or rise and mount, your hand in Caesar's hand ? 

Oct. I would I never had been born to this, 
But Fate so wills it. I must drink my cup, 
Bitter or sweet, such as it is. And yet 
Had I the choice how different were the life — 
How different were the lot that I should choose ! — 



36 NERO. [Act I. 



Where unconspicuous, girt around by friends, 
Clasped by an arm that loved and cherished me, 
Peaceful and calm my life might slip along 
'Mid gentle pleasures, like a brimming stream, 
That through the meadow levels lapses on 
Unturbulent — unbroken. 

Agrip. Glorious wish ! 

Oh great ambition ! Shame, Octavia, shame ! 
That is a peasant's dream of happiness. 

Oct. It may be so. Yet it is a pleasant dream. 

Agrip. Look at me, child ! Have you within your 
veins 
No drop of Caesar's blood ? Is it all milk ? 
Are you Octavia, or some changeling child ? 

Oct. I must seem poor and spiritless to you — 
You who are made to rule — whose iron will 
Bends all before it — you whose skilful hands 
Fling to and fro the shuttle with such skill, 
Weaving through all the tangled threads of state 
A perfect figure. Ah, I envy you ! 
I cannot follow you. 

Agrip. Ay, there indeed 






Scene V.] NERO. 37 

I hear a better note. You envy me ! 

Do then as I do. The great joy that lasts 

Longer than love, longer than hate, ay, long 

As life itself, is power — that never dies. 

To gather in your hand the reins of rule, 

And drive the world before you as you will — 

To extort obedience — sway men's destinies — 

Curb, turn, stop, urge them to your absolute course. 

There is no joy, no triumph like to this. 

Taste it, Octavia, once, and you will smile 

As you look back on your tame dream of peace. 

Oct. I am not fit for it. I can admire 
The chariot-driver in the passionate race, 
Who in the tumult — in the roar, the dust, 
The maddening motion and the mob's acclaim, 
Keeps o'er himself command — swerves here and there, 
Balks danger — seizes just the time and place, 
Ne'er losing nerve, and triumphs at the goal. 
1 can admire — I could not imitate. 

Agrip. Think you the first time that he drove his steeds 
His nerves were firm ? Long training for long years 
Taught him that skill. He failed an hundred times 



38 NERO. . [Act I. 

Before he triumphed. So it is with all. 
Nature demands her pay for what she gives. 
She does not throw her prizes like largesse 
Into the laps of those that dream and doze. 
If you would win the prize, train for the fight. 

Oct. No ! no ! I am not fit — should never be ; 
It is not in my blood. 

Agrip. Your blood is mine. 

Oct. Oh ! but with such a difference. I think 
There's not a drop of Caesar's blood in me. 

Agrip. Is it your mother's blood runs in your veins ? 
She was not wont to flinch at obstacles. 
Oct. I am a poor slip. 

Agrip. Nay, Octavia, dear, 

You are a dear good child ; and you to me 
Shall be indeed a child, and help me shape 
Our handsome Nero to some noble end. 
He is so handsome, and so free and frank, 
That one must love him. Wild as a young colt. 
But who would wish him otherwise ? Not I, 
Nor you, Octavia : surely time will tame 
Those youthful ardours into calm resolve. 



Scene V.] N E R O. 39 

One could not have him weak, and poor, and cowed, 
And you must help me mould him to our will. 

Oct. Easier to say than do ; but I will try. 

Agrip. Keep up your spirits, child! pluck up a heart! 
Taunt Nero, dare him, win him as one wins 
A fortress or a battle. Do not yield, 
And sigh, and droop, and languish for his love, 
But struggle with him — clash your wits with his — 
Laugh at him — tempt him. You are fair and young — 
Have wit and spirit, but you make no play 
With all your gifts. Nothing a man desires 
Like fruit that he must climb and strain to pluck ■ 
What drops into his hand, he will not taste. 
Anger him first, then soothe him — tease him well — 
Don't follow him with such a timid air, 
As if you grieved to vex him. Use the arts 
That women have : deny him what he wants — 
Feign, flatter, tease — you'll have him at your feet. 

Oct. Oh ! if he but loved me but a little bit ; 
Or if he hated, something I might do. 
But no ; 'tis simple blank indifference 
He feels for me. I bore him — that's the truth. 



40 



NERO. 



[Act I. 



Agrip. Use then the arts that any common girl 
Of the Hetairse knows so well to use ; 
Pluck from their books a leaf — only a leaf. 

Oct. I cannot do it, for I know them not. 

Agrip. Well, learn them then ! Think well on what 
I say. 
All will be right at last. Ah ! who is there ? 
Oh, Pallas ! 



Enter Pallas. 

Pal. Salve ! 

Agrip. Leave us now, my child. 

[Exit Octavia. 
What news, dear Pallas? In your face I see 
Something has vexed you. 

Pal. Yes, love, I am vexed. 

Agrip. What is it, say, my Pallas ? Sit you down, 
And let me hear it. How your hair 
Is tumbled up ? Let me arrange it. There ! 
Well, dear, what is it ? 

Pal. Nothing, love, to me. 

I'm vexed because I know you will be vexed. 



Scene V.] NERO. 4 1 

Agrip. I ? let me hear it then at once. 

Pal. That fool, 
Senecio, — that Senecio who, you know, 
I urged you should be kept from Nero's path, 
And whom you laughed at as a fool — whose wit 
Was scarce enough to guide him home at night 

Agrip. Well! 

Pal. At Petronius' house last night I met 

This same Senecio. We'd a supper there, 
And he lay next to me. The wine was good, 
The mirth loud, and Senecio drank too much, 
Losing the little wit he has, and then 
In maudlin confidence he leaned on me 
And whispered " So, she thinks in the great house 
To marry Nero to Octavia ! 
Bah! bah!" and then he laughed. "Why Bah?" 

said I. 
" It makes me laugh," he hiccupped. " Such a joke ! " 
"What joke? explain," I said. "Why, don't you know 
We've started Nero on a better game ? 
Oh ! she's a choice rare morsel ! By the gods ! 
Fit for an emperor, Acte is, by Jove ! 



42 NERO. [Act I. 

Greek — oh, so pretty ! so bewitching too ! 
And Nero goes there daily ! What a joke ! 
And she at the great house suspects it not ! " 
And then the idiot laughed. 

Agrip. What ! — what ! — go on. 

Pal "Why do you laugh so there ? What is the jest?" 
Petronius called ; and then Senecio cried, 
Stuffing into his mouth the while a fig, 
" Why, Acte ! and to think they know it not ! 
And he head and ears in love with her ! 
Mad ! mad ! for love of that gay little girl ! " 
" Hush ! hush ! " Petronius said, "you idiot, you ! — 
You know not what you say." " Oh ! don't I though?" 
He hiccupped out. " Poor, dear Octavia ! 
Oh, what a mess ! oh, what a charming mess ! " 
With that they rose and huddled him away, 
And after that was done, Petronius came 
And sat by me and whispered, " Never mind 
A word Senecio says. He's drunk, you see, 
And how this nonsense got into his head, 
Who knows ? 'Tis folly, every word of it." 
" Of course," I said, " I know Senecio's drunk." 



Scene V.] N E R O. 43 

And then pretending to give no more heed 
To what he said, we shifted the discourse. 
But 'tis all true. I'll gauge my life on it. 
I saw it in the faces of them all. 

Agrip. Oh, he shall answer for it with his life ! 

Pal. I came at once to give you this bad news. 
What's to be done ? 

Agrip. Tear out Senecio's tongue 

If he have lied. If not, why, all the same, 
Tear out his tongue : and then — then — O ye gods ! 
If it is true ! I'll test him on the spot. 
Call Nero, Pallas. Call him — do you hear ? 

Pal. Pause — think — resolve — before you speak. The 
way, 
If this be true, with dangers is beset. 
Nero you cannot force. Keep calm, I pray. 

Agrip. Oh, what a blind and stupid fool I am ! 

Pal. Govern your rage — 'tis just — but govern it. 
See, Agrippina, were it not the best, 
To feign to Nero ignorance of it all ? 
Then find out Acte, and away with her — 
Hide her from out his sight ; nor let him dream 



44 NERO. [Act I. 

That you suspect him — drive her back to Greece. 

Agrip. I must see Nero — see him now at once. 
Go call him, Pallas. 

Pal. Agrippina, pause ! 

Agrip. Call him — or I will. Oh ! I cannot live 
Till I have torn this thing up by the roots ! 

Pal. I go ; but by the love I bear to you, 
By all the love you say you bear to me, 
Oh, Agrippina ! act with caution. Probe 
The heart out of this matter ere you act. 

Agrip. I will. Now, go ! He's in the library. 

[Exit Pallas. 
Can it be true ? Oh yes ; I feel it is ! 
What shall I do? I must be calm — be calm, 
Though all my thoughts are raging like the sea 
When the storm strikes it. Yes ; I must be calm, 
Put on a false sweet face and smile and feign. 
Where were my eyes ? — where were my eyes ? Great 

Jove ! 
That this thing should go on before my face, 
And I not know it. And who is she, then ? — 
This Acte ? — that she dares to cope with me ? 



Scene V.] NERO. 45 

Who is she that with dire insidious ways 

Steals in to tear away the lion-cub 

From his own dam ? Ah ! there he is at last ! 

Enter Nero. 

Nero. You wish to see me, mother ? 

Agrip. Ay, my son. 

Come, sit beside me. What's that book you have ? 

Nero. Ovidius Naso. 

Agrip. You were reading, then, 

When Pallas called you ? 

Nero. Ay, his Art of Love. 

Agrip. Ay, love indeed makes use of many arts ; 
Some innocent, on nature graffed, that breed 
A sweeter flower than Nature owned before. 
It was this very theme on which I spoke 
Only this morning to Octavia. 
She said she had no arts ; the simple child 
Could only love ; but knew no artful means 
To win love back. 

Nero. Ay, that is true enough ; 

Yet 'tis not Art, but Nature, that she needs — 



46 NER O. [Act I. 

Heat, passion, blood — ay, in a word — a heart. 

Agrip. A heart ? A tenderer, gentler heart ne'er beat 
In woman's bosom. 

Nero. Oh, 'tis tame enough, 

Or gentle, if you please to call it so ! 
Passions she's none — she would not move a mouse. 

Agrip. And yet she loves you, Nero. 

Nero. Loves me — she ! 

Such love as hers is tasteless, vapid, flat 
As tepid water. 

Agrip. And you like strong drink? 

Nero. At least some life, zest, spirit — who does not ? 

Agrip. Life, zest — 'tis vice, I fear, you mean. 

Nero. Perhaps ! 

Agrip. And after this all gentle things seem tame 
Sweet, innocent love, affections virgin, fresh, 
Pure thoughts — pure feelings — want the sting of sin 
And do not please your palate. Oh ! I see ! 
Some miserable jade, with wily arts 
Hath caught you in her calculated toils, 
And means to lime and use you for her ends. 
Is it not so ? Avow it. Some poor fool 



Scene V.] NERO. 47 

With painted cheeks, and all those arts of love 
Engendered in the hotbed of foul thought, 
And practised, after all the zest is gone, 
To lure her victim — she has fallen on you — 
Am I not right ? 

Nero. What mean you by these words ? 

Because I call Octavia tame, at once, 
All unprovoked, you conjure up a shape — 
A nameless, shadowy shape to taunt me with. 

Agrip. Oh, I could name her ! 

Nero. Name her, if you can. 

Agrip. No matter what her name is, such as she 
Have different names for every different dupe — 
Lais, or Phryne, if she be a Greek — 
Or Acte — that's the name of one of them, 
So I have heard, and she of all the worst. 

Nero. No, she is not. 

Agrip. Ah, ha ! my random bolt 

Strikes home then, does it ? 'Tis this Acte, then — 
This Acte — never shake your head — I say 
'Tis Acte ! Do not seek to brave it out ; 
Your face betrays you. 



48 NERO. [Act I. 

Nero. 'Tis a lie, I say. 

Who told you ? Pallas ? Miserable wretch ! 

Agrip. So ! you are fallen to this. Oh, I had thought 
You at a loftier quarry would have flown ! 
You ! — Caesar ! — fallen into the first pit 
This Greek ! — this Acte ! — this poor painted thing ! — 
This slave ! — who has not even in her veins 
Free blood ! — this creature who in her embrace 
Has hugged God knows how many dirty slaves ! — 
This public painted creature one may buy 
For a few copper coins ! 

Nero. It is not so. 

I will not hear her so befouled by you. 
Ay, she is poor ; but in her wealth of heart 
Richer than worlds of tame Octavias. 
Painted ! I wish you had some paint like hers 
To lend Octavia, or to use yourself. 

Agrip. Insult me not ! Remember who I am ! 
Your mother ! Take less licence when you speak. 

Nero. I will not be abused and trampled on, 
For all you are my mother. I will not hear 
A poor girl railed at, vilified, and soiled 



Scene V.] NERO. 49 

In name and fame, merely because she's poor — 
Merely because she has been kind to me. 

Agrifi. Kind to you ! Oh, you boy ! you senseless 

boy! 
Nero. I am no boy ! I am a man ! and, more, 
Am Cassar ! 

Agrip. Caesar ! so you are indeed ; 

But do you act like Caesar? You to stoop 
To such a posture ; you to creep and crawl 
And drag the imperial robes in filth like this ? 
Throw off this woman. Bid her go her way. 
What does she care for you ? It is your power, 
Your wealth, she covets. She would suck your blood, 
And spread her gilded wings and fly from you 
Once she is satiate, like a poisonous fly. 
Love you ! She loves your money — loves the power 
Your fancy gives her : at yourself she laughs. 
Come back to decency — to better thoughts ; 
Come to Octavia — do not break her heart. 
Throw not that jewel in the sea to wear 
A common pebble from the filthy shore — 
Cast off this Acte ! — cast her off, I say ! 
D 



50 



NERO. 



[Act I. 



Nero. Ay, you have had your youth, then leave me 
mine. 
Abandon Acte ! Ay, perhaps I may 
When you abandon Pallas. 'Tis his breath 
Has blown this tempest. Cast him off — and then 
Ask me to cast off Acte ! Who is he 
That he should lord it over you and me — 
Stalk at your side — whisper his craft to you, 
And set you thus against me, as he does ? 

Agrip. Tis.not so, Nero; Pallas is a man 
Of great resource and power, to whom you owe 
Even more than I. 

Nero. I hate him. 

Agrip. If you knew 

Who were your best friends, you would cling to him. 

Nero. I know my friends. 

Agrip. And so do I. I know 

The profligate Senecio, your dear friend 
Who lured you to this woman, and who shares, 
Perchance, the booty, while both laugh at you. 
You shall not be their tool, their jest, their butt — 



Scene V.] NERO. 5 1 

Nay, you shall hear me ! Shake not thus your head. 
Acte must go ! You must abandon her, 
Or 

Nero. Well ; or what ? 

Agrip. Or I will see to it. 

Nero. You threaten her ? 

Agrip. I say that she shall go. 

Nero. Leave her alone. She never injured you. 

Agrip. Yes ! when she injures you, she injures me. 
Jove knows to what height her ambition soars. 
May be this creature covets even the throne. 

Nero. She covets nothing. 

Agrip. Oh, I know their ways ! 

They are so humble — so ingenuous. Pah ! 
So sweet — so self-denying ; out on them 
And their hypocrisy ! Even now I see 
How she has changed you. A few months ago 
You had not braved me as you brave me now. 
This is her teaching. She has set your heart 
Against Octavia and me. Your tone 
Is now defiant. You would throw us off 



52 NERO. [Act I. 

For that insidious wheedling slave. I say- 
She shall away — I will not have her here ! 

Nero. Touch her — and every touch I will revenge. 

Agrip. You threaten me ? 

Nero. Then leave me free, and I 

Will leave you free — you and your lover too. 
Pallas may lord it here, and strut, and scold ; 
But every blow at Acte aimed shall fall 
On Pallas' head. Be very sure of that. 

Agrip. So you mean war. You at your mother 
throw 
The gage of battle. Oh, ungrateful boy ! 

Nero. I'm not ungrateful — and I'm not a boy. 
It is for you to choose how we shall stand ; 
And, by your leave, I've had enough of this. 
Farewell. 

Agrip. I hope you will repent of this. 

[Exit Nero. 
Repent of it ! Ay, that, I swear, he shall ! 
But, oh, before me rises a black cloud, 
And in its breast is tempest ! Gracious Jove ! 



Scene V.] NERO. 53 

Will my own son defy me ? will my blood — 
My own blood rise against me? No ! no ! no ! 
I'll not believe it ! Yet, I fear — I fear ! 
Pallas was right ; I should have feigned to him, 
And swept her out of Rome. A single nod 
Had done that work. Now 'tis too late. Oh fool ! 



END OF ACT I. 



54 



ACT II. 

Scene I . — Room of Agrippina. 
Acerronia and Agrippina. 

Agrip. What have you, Acerronia ? Give it me ! 

Acer. Madame, — a letter — Pallas sends to you. 

Agrip. A letter? Give it me. {Looks at it.) Tis 
not from him • 
'Tis my son's writing, surely ; what is this ? 
" Nero unto Poppasa. The delight 
Of your dear presence yesterday was marred 
In that you did not to my love respond 
With that full heart I hoped so fondly for. 
All I would sacrifice to win from you 
A love as wild and passionate as mine. 
My heart, my fate, my life are in your hands — 



Scene I.] NERO. 55 

You can alone dispose of it. Seek out 
Some means that I may meet you secretly, 
And count upon the love for ever yours 
Of Nero." Ah ! Whence did this letter come ? 

Acer. From Pallas. Tigellinus, as it seems, 
Gave it to young Pythagoras, his slave, 
To carry to Poppsea. He, disguised, 
And taken for a girl, was at her door 
Seized on by Sylla, and borne off by force. 
When it was found he was a man disguised 
He was set free ; but in the cabinet 
Where he was carried, on the floor he dropped 
This letter, which a slave of Pallas found. 

Agrip. Where's Pallas ? I must see him instantly. 

Acer. He will be here before an hour is passed. 

Agrip. This must be stopped. It shall be stopped 
at once. 
The hypocrite ! Who would have dreamed of this, 
With his fair speeches ! He is changed of late ; 
He grows more headstrong daily ; — and this thing 
He shall not do. No, no ! You sly-faced cat, 
I'll put my hand upon you ere you know ! 



56 NERO. [Act II. 

And then, Poppsea, you shall wish to God 
You had not ventured to dispute my will ! 
Go, Acerronia, leave me now alone ; 
I must think over this. Bid Pallas come 
The moment that he enters : fare you well- 






Scene II. 
Enter Otho and Britannicus. 

Brit. Well met, dear Otho ! whither go you now ? 

Otho. Away from Rome. Nero has sent me word 
That Lusitania my presence needs. 
I understand — a block that's in the way 
Must be removed. 

Brit. I do not understand : 

You are his friend, on whom he seemed to lean, 
His boon companion, knitted close to him, 
Sharer of all he did : he cannot wish 
To lose a friend like you. 



Scene II.] NERO. 57 

Otho. Britannicus, 

I have a wife, a fair — too fair — a wife j 
Nero has set his heart on her — and so 
I must make clear his path ; the provinces 
Demand my presence ; I must turn my back 
On Rome and all its luxuries and joys : 
Five hundred miles away, one cannot see 
How oft one's doors are opened, or to whom. 

Brit. Can it be so ? I hope you are deceived ! 
Nero seemed ever fond of you. 

Otho. Oh yes,— 

But more ot my Poppsea. 

Brit. What says she ? 

Otho. Prays me to stay with many a pretty phrase, — 
But phrases to a pretty woman are so cheap ; 
And through it all, I see that the old love 
She bore me once begins to pall and fade ; 
Women crave ever something new, — they tire 
Of their old loves as of their dresses old. 
New tongues with their new flatteries whet the taste : 
Besides, Jove knows what Nero promises 
To dazzle her ambition. Let her go ! 



58 NERO. [Act II 



The path she treads is perilous, but still 

It charms her onward. I have had my day, — 

And, willy nilly, now must bow my head. 

Brit. I am so grieved to hear it ! Must you go ? 

Otho. I must : and so, not whining — for a man 
Must take what comes, and make the best of it, 
Bearing his lot with courage, all the more 
That fighting with his fate can change it not, 
And weeping over it will naught avail — 
I take my leave. Oh, my Britannicus, 
How I shall sigh through mauy a weary day 
For our dear Rome ! How many a restless night 
Shall dream of her, and think me back again 
In the old streets, and talking of old friends ! 
How many a time in dreams Poppsea's face 
Will smile again on mine, as once it did, 
And swear eternal faith ! How many a time 
Shall I awake to curse my hapless lot 
And chew the bitter cud of vain regret ! 
What shall I do in exile ? I who here 
Have sailed upon the glittering crest of life, 
All sails blown out with pleasure, — not a whim 






Scene II.] NERO. 59 

Ungratified, — when lumbering there I lie 
In the dead sea of exile like a log ! 

Brit. Indeed, I pity you ; yet, Otho, dear, 
Nothing is wholly bad : the storm alone 
Tries the true vessel, makes us know its strength. 
You are no painted barge, fit for a day 
When winds are light and all the sea is smooth ; 
You will come back to us — I know you will — 
Stronger in character for all this strain ; 
Ours is the loss, — how we shall miss you here, 
With your gay sallies, your light-hearted jests ! 

Otho. Thanks : I shall miss you too — how much- — 
how much ! 
No more of this ; what must be, must be, — so 
Farewell, Britannicus ; pray you we meet 
Some day or other here again in Rome. 

Brit. Be sure we shall, — put a good face on it. 

Otho. I will — I do. Bah ! what a fool man is ! 
One word before we part ; keep in the shade ; 
Thwart not the powers that be ; avoid the path 
That Nero treads, and see you waken not 
His least suspicion, — wrestle not with him. 



60 NERO. [Act II. 

Brit. I have no cause, — I covet not his power. 
All that I covet from him is his love. 

Otho. His love ! His love ! You almost make me 
smile. 

Brit. I fear he does not love me overmuch. 

Otho. Go and tame flies, but seek not Nero's love. 
Love you ? There's nothing on this earth he loves 
Save his dear self. All that I hope for is 
You may not rouse his fear ! 

Brit. What ! fear of me ? 

Why, what am I that he should fear me ? 

Otho. You ? 

The son of Claudius, emperor by right. 

Brit. I would not be the emperor if I could, 
And that he knows. 

Otho. Look that his mother, then, 

Rouse not this fear within him. Look to it. 

Brit. These are vain shadows. 

Otho. Let us hope they are : 

But keep my counsel. Well, Britannicus, 
Embrace me, — so. Farewell — a long farewell ! 

Brit. Farewell ! and may you soon return to us. 



Scene III.] NERO. 6 1 

Scene III. — Poppcea's house. 
Popp^a and Nero. 

Nero. You love me not, Poppaea. Now, at least, 
Since Otho's gone, you might avow your love, 
If any love you bear me. Yet in vain 
I plead to you. Speak, — say to me, I love ! 

Pop. Poor Otho ! He is gone indeed — and why ? 
What was his fault, that you must banish him ? 

Nero. Ah, then, you wish him back ? 

Pop. I pity him ! 

Who would not pity him that had a heart ? 
What was his crime ? The crime of loving me. 

Nero. 'Twas crime enough : he spoiled my life and 
yours. 

Pop. Not mine ! 

Nero. Yes, yours ! This is a poor pretence : 

You charming hypocrite, you loved him not. 

Pop. I did ; I loved him. He was ever kind 
And true to me. He petted, cherished me — 
Forestalled my every wish. He did not talk, 



62 NERO. [Act II. 

But acted; proved his love ; made me his wife, 
His friend, his equal. 

Nero. Bah ! You loved him not ! 

Pop. I did. I loved him, — not with that wild sense 
That you call love — that shatters peace, and drives 
With riotous and passionate excess 
Through all our thoughts : not that insatiate love 
That, with a hungry madness, through our will 
Roams, craving everything, content with naught. 

Nero. Oh yes, — you loved him as one loves a dog, 
To pat and pet ; when he's importunate, 
Turn out of doors : sure, he will watch and guard. 
No, faith, I do not want such love as that ! 

Pop. While he was with me, I at least was safe, — 
No fear, until you came, prowled round the house, 
And peeped at every crevice : now, indeed, 
The watch-dog, as you called him, is away, 
How am I better, safer, happier ? 
Sometimes I wish I'd never seen your face. 

Nero. Not always, do you ? Do you hate me, then ? 

Pop. Were you content with that which I could give, 
I should be happier ; but you ask too much. 






Scene III.] NERO. 63 

Nero. Yes, I ask all. Yes, love, true love, craves 
all! 
Will not be fed with phrases, scraps, and shams, 
Nor live on leavings. Those who love give all ; 
They do not measure out poor, petty parts, 
But gladly give their all, their very all, 
And count it little ! 

Pop. Oh, that's what you mean 
When you say, Love me ; now I understand. 

Nero. Yes, I ask that ; is it too much I ask ? 

Pop. More than I choose to give, at least — far more. 
You ask for all ; of course, you offer all. 

Nero. I do : ask anything of me, and see ! 

Pop. Suppose I take you at your word, and say, 
Abandon all your state, — give up your crown, — 
Change name and title, — wed me as your wife, — 
Flee with me to some distant place — to Rhodes, 
Corinth, or where you will 3 there in disguise 
Beyond the sight of men, beyond their hate, 
Let us be happy, — where no fear can come, 
No danger threaten, — all in all to each ; 
What say you ? We have wealth enough to live ; 



64 NERO. [Act II. 



We should not starve ; and all the fret of courts 
Far off, would sound to us like some soft buzz 
Of insects, as we lay upon the grass 
And talked and brooded on our happiness ; 
What say you, Caesar ? ■ 

Nero. Say ? Of course I say 

This is mere folly — as you know it is. 

Pop. Oh, then, you mean by all, as much of all 
As serves your purpose. I must give you all, 
And in return you give, to use your words, 
The scraps, the leavings, the poor, petty parts 
That cost you nothing. 

Nero. If such price you ask, 

Large as it is, my love is large enough 
To promise even this. 

Pop. To promise — yes ; 

Not to perform it : no ! These are mere words ; 
But to come back to stern reality 
Out of these fancies. You have stricken down 
The shelter of my life, and left me now 
Exposed to all the beatings of the storm. 

Nero. What storm ? 






Scene III.] NERO. 65 

Pop. You know as well as I. Thus far 

You came to see me as a friend might come. 
Oth o was here, and Otho was your friend. 
Now, the world knows that he is banished Rome. 
Why is he banished ? asks the world, and laughs : 
Well, let them laugh ; what care I for the world 
Or its injustice ? 'twas your hand, not mine, 
That drove him hence, against my wish — my will. 
You set me here to face the taunting world, 
Alone, unfriended. 

Nero. Not unfriended ! No. 

Am I not here ? 

Pop. You are, and at your side 

Stands Danger, looking o'er your shoulder there 
Scowling a menace \ that I dare not face ! 

Nero. This is mere fancy, bred of idle fears : 
Who dares to threaten her whom I protect ? 

Pop. None better knows than you. Look ! there she 
stands — 
Your mother. 

Nero. Where ? Great gods, you startled me ! 

Pop. Ah ! Even at the phantom that I raise 
E 



66 NERO. [Act II. 

You start, and tell me not to fear. Yet think ! 

If she stood there, and heard the words you say, 

Where were we ? Listen ! no more folly now. 

You tempt me to my ruin ; for, you see, 

I'm nothing but a woman full of fears 

And full of weakness. Leave me. Vex no more 

Your wife, Octavia. Come not here to brave 

Your mother, if you love me as you say. 

There's danger in it every way : to me — 

To you — to all ; for, while Octavia lives, 

I cannot be your wife, I will not be 

Your mistress, to be flung away at last 

When you have tired of playing with the toy, — 

No, never ! 

Nero. Who has put this in your head ? 

Pop. No one : the whole world, — every wind that 
blows ! 

Nero. No ! Some one told you this to frighten you ; 
Tis this has changed you. Some one has been here, — 
'Tis useless to deny it. Who was it ? 

Pop. Whoever warned me, warned me to my good, 
Saw me in danger, and stretched out a hand 






Scene III.] NERO. 6j 

To save me ; if I take it, blame not him 
For such small service. 

Nero. Who's the fool that put 

This nonsense in your head ? 'Twas Seneca. 

Pop. And if it were, was he not right ? All this 
Is worse than folly you are doing here. 

Nero. Curse him ! And does he dare to meddle 
thus ? 

Pop. Oh, he was right ; he could not help but speak, 
And all he said was just. 

Nero. The meddling fool ! 

Pop. He but recited what was told to him. 

Nero. Told him ? By whom ? 

Pop. You know as well as I. 

Nero. My mother. 

Pop. And who else ? But she is right ; 
It is unseemly, and it now should end. 

Nero. Now by the gods infernal, they shall pay 
Both, all of them, for this, and swiftly, too ! 

Pop. Wreak not your passion on Octavia, — 
She never did you wrong. 

Nero. You take her part ! 



68 



NERO. 



[Act II. 



You do it but to vex me. 

Pop. No, indeed, 

I pity her ; and you should pity her. 

Nero. What ! Am I, then, a boy that cannot move 
But as my mother bids me ? Ay, indeed, 
Go to Octavia ! Long enough she's weighed 
A clog upon me : time to fling her off. 
Off with her ! and then you shall be my wife. 

Pop. I ? Never ! No ! she shall not weep for me. 
And not for that alone, though that's enough, 
But that I fear your cruel mother's rage. 
Why, she would snatch me from your very arms 
And fling me out like offal to the dogs ! 
No ! Peace, life ; leave me these. I ask no more. 
Yes ! Leave me, Nero, in the shadow here, 
For in the sun all sorts of dangers swarm. 
Your mother, — ah ! I think you know her not. 
All have gone down before her who opposed, 
Nor only me — poor, idle, timorous me — 
She'd sweep away ; but were you in her path, 
Even you she'd shatter like a broken gourd. 
Oh, trust me, Nero, and withdraw in time ! 



Scene III.] NERO. 69 

Trust me, dear Nero ; give me up at once ! 

Nero. I give you up ! — I'll thrust them all to hell! 

Pop. You cannot help it, Nero — you must yield. 

Nero. Yield? Never — never! Give you up? No, no! 

Pop. Oh, look to it — be careful how you tread : 
Pitfalls are everywhere. Remember, too, 
Britannicus still lives ; recall to mind 
The fate of Claudius, Passienus too, 
Silanus — every one that blocked her way. 
Ah me ! Poor Lollia — poor Domitia — 
Shall I be doomed to follow your sad fate ? 
Oh spare yourself— spare me ! 

Nero. You make my blood 

Creep in my veins. What shall I do ? I stand 
'Twixt love, and pain, and rage, all blowing wild, 
Like to a staggering ship in the wide main 
Beat by opposing blasts : — and yet — and yet 
I will not yield. No ! I will cling to you. 

Pop. And, clinging to me, kill me with your love. 

Nero. No ! I will save you. I will brave them all. 
You shall be mine — I swear it by the gods ; 
And you shall sit beside me on the throne. 



70 



NERO. 



[Act II. 



All you shall have that I can give to you. 

Pop. Speak not like this ; take heed of what you do ; 
We will be friends — calm friends — let that suffice. 
Oh, I am tired of this anxious life ! 
'Tis peace I need, and not to climb the stairs 
That lead to empire — even were you free 
To lift me to them ; but you are not free. 
No more of that : — Hark ! 'Tis a trumpet's clang. 
They call you, Caesar ! 

Nero. Must I leave you, then ? 

Pop. Ay, leave me — and take heed on what you do. 

Nero. I will. Now smooth your brow and clear 
your eyes. 
One kiss, Poppaea. Oh, my dearest love, 
Smile once again ! I cannot leave you thus ! 

Pop. Tyrant, take heed ! Be not so violent. 
Nay — set me free, I say. 

Nero. Not till you say 

You love me — say, I love you. 

Pop. Love you — no ! 

See how you've torn my dress — you tiger, you ! 
I am afraid of you. 



Scene III.] NERO. 7 1 

Nero. Afraid of me ! 

I would not harm your little finger, love, 
For all that Rome contains. 

Pop. Go — go away ! 

You men are all alike : a little while 
You love, and with wild violence, and then — 
Puff ! all is over. For a little month 
If one is lucky, love is in its flower \ 
And then it fades and stinks — stinks all the more 
Because it was so sweet in its fresh bloom. 

Nero. But yours will never fade. I never tire 
Of looking into those sweet eyes of yours. 

Pop. See, Nero, all these pretty things you've said 
So many a time, you know them all by heart. 
Confess, you've said the same words o'er and o'er 
To Acte, to Octavia, and who knows 
How many another ? 

Nero. To Octavia — no ! — 

Never ! — nor yet to Acte. 

Pop. Yes, you have ! — 

At least to Acte. 

Nero. Jealous — on my word ! 



72 



NERO. 



[Act II. 



Pop. Jealous? I jealous? What a fool you are 
Go to her. Try me : do you think I'd snap 
My finger to recall you ? No, not I ! 

Nero. Oh yes, you would ! For all you choose to 
feign 
You'd call me back ; and I should rush to you 
And cry — Poppaea, here I am again ! 
For oh, I love you — love you — love you so, 
That all the world, when you're away, is black ! 
And when you're with me, joyous, living, fresh 
As morning spring-time when the violets come ! 

Pop. That's some old song of yours ; you wrote it 
first 
For your — who was it? The first time you loved — 
Acte — Octavia — or whom ? 

Nero. Ah, yes ! 

Octavia, indeed ! 

Pop. Well, let it then 

Be Acte : names are nothing. " Acte, love," 
So went it first, " my darling, joy of life, 
My spring-time violet, my morning-flower, 
What were the world to me deprived of thee ? " 



Scene III.] NERO. 73 

Nero. No more of that. 

Pop. " What were the world to me ? " 

Nero. Do you not hear me ? Peace, I say ! 

Pop. Ah me! 

How fierce you look ! Will nothing serve but death ? 
Quick — strike then with your dagger to my heart ! 

Nero. There's no heart there : and for that taunt- 
ing face, 
That taunting smile, they're made to drive me mad. 
Why do you thus provoke me ? 

Pop. I provoke ? 

It is the truth provokes you, and not I. 
But hark ! — again that trumpet. Leave me now. 
Forget me. 

Nero. Never ! 

Pop. Go at once. 

Nero. One kiss, 

And so farewell, until we meet again ; 
Till then one day will seem a century. 

Pop. Come not again until the clouds are passed. 

Nero. Keep your heart light, the clouds will pass away. 

Pop. Farewell to you ; I pray the gods they may. 



74 NERO. [Act II. 

Scene IV. — Imperial Palace. 

TlGELLIXUS, FENIUS RUFUS, PeTROXIUS ARBITER. 

Tigel. Who has seen Nero? How is he to-day? 

Ruf. I have not seen him since the early morn. 

Petr. How was he then ? 

Ruf. Short, sharp, and out of sorts. 

Petr. He drank too much last night — he supped 
with you, 
And is not yet himself; and as for me, 
I laid abed all yesterday, and still 
My head's not right : we drank so all of us. 

Ruf. Who could refrain ? What wines ! what meats ! 
I swear 
Nothing in Rome since old Lucullus' time 
Was sumptuous as your banquet — not even that, 
The famous one in the Apollo Hall, 
That cost some thirty thousand, as they say. 

Tigel. I'm glad it pleased you. 

Ruf. Pleased me ! On my soul 

Who was not pleased must have been hard to please. 



Scene IV.] NERO. 75 

A splendid house ; gay gardens ; coloured lights 
Hanging among the trees like golden fruits ; 
Soft music, just enough to stir the nerves, 
Not drown the voices ; clouds of dancing shapes, 
Half naked, with their floating scarfs and hair ; 
The clash of swords — ay, and blood, too — to whet 
The jaded sense : and while we laughed and drank 
The gods themselves might then have envied us ! 
Then, statues gleaming down the pillared halls, 
And living nymphs with bared and rosy limbs. 
And ebon slaves with golden glittering rings 
Clanging on neck and ankles as they moved. 
By heaven ! it seemed like an enchanted place. 

Tigel. I hope the Emperor was pleased as well. 

Petr. Ay, that he was ! Ye gods ! he scarce could let 
The singers sing or the musicians play. 
But he must lead them, staggering up and down, 
Plucking their flutes away to play himself. 
Then singing, dancing, till he tumbled prone 
On the cold floor that slipped beneath his feet. 

Tigel. By Jove ! I feared at first his head was cut, 
Until I saw 'twas but a splash of wine, 



76 NERO. [Act II. 

Not blood, upon his forehead. How he laughed ! 

Riif. "Here, take this flute/' he cried — "I've broken it; 
And there's for you instead." With that he snatched 
A golden vase, all chased with living forms. 
Greek, was it not ? and worth, God knows how much ! 
And threw it to him. Tigellinus here 
Laughed and applauded him. 

Tigel Why should I not ? 

It was so like him — such a sudden whim ! 

Petr. A whim, indeed ! A pretty costly whim ! 
Lucky for you he did not take them all, 
And give to every singer there a cup. 

Tigel. He's a wild creature — you can never count 
On what he'll do, and that's what tickles me. 
I always watch him — he's such fun, you know : 
All others have some limits, but he none. 
He might have killed the player, — 'twas a chance 
He did not. Did you see that fellow's face ? 
' Twas ghastly white : his legs shook under him 
When he saw Nero fall. I'll swear he thought 
His hour was come. 

Petr. T faith, I thought it was ! 



Scene IV.] NERO. 77 

Tigel. Well, then, to your surprise, and mine as well, 
He flung him that rich cup. The fellow grinned, 
But trembled still. I laughed as I should die. 

Petr. One of your Thracians got an awful slash 
Over his shoulder. Did he die of it ? 

Tigel. I have not heard. 

Petr. What if he did, the slave ! 

Ruf. Nothing. I just was curious, for he looked 
Like a fresh hand. 

Tigel. I know not who he was. 

Petr. Where vanished Epicharis ? She slipped out 
Just in the height of all the gaiety. 

Ruf. I know not. Tigellinus knows, perhaps. 

Tigel. Not I. I sought her everywhere in vain. 

Ruf. I saw a figure that resembled hers 
Run down the alley near the summer-house, 
But, rushing after her, I only met 
Piso and Flavius, who had seen her not. 

Tigel. Piso and Flavius ? 

Ruf. Ay, and going on 

I found the bodies of two soldiers there 
Near the pavilion, where I thought she ran. 



/ 8 NERO. [Act II. 

Tigel. That's very strange. 

Ruf. I thought it strange myself. 

Petr. Well ! Shall we saunter down the Forum ? 
Come ! 
No use to wait — the day is going by. 

Tigel. Yes, I'm agreed. Where do you sup to-night ? 
Let's sup together. Come to me. 

Petr. No, no ! 

Come all to me ! 

Ruf. The time ? 

Petr. At the twelfth hour. 

Tigel. Come, let us go, for Nero will not come. 

[Exeunt. 



Scene V. 
Enter Nero and Attendants. 

Nero. Why, here is no one ! Wherefore, ye base curs, 
Said you that Otho, Tigellinus, Pallas, 
Were waiting here ? 



Scene V.] NERO. . 79 

Attend. 'Tis but a moment since 

They stood here, asking after you. 

Nero. You lie ! 

Attend. Indeed, most potent Csesar ! 

Nero. Off with you ! 

No words. 

Attend. Your pardon, Csesar, — you were right. 

Nero. Again you lie, I say, for they were here : 
Here is a bracelet Tigellinus wears, 
Dropped by him here. Why stand you staring thus ? 
When did they go, — where are they gone? Speak, 
slave ! 

Attend. I know not, Csesar. 

Nero. Gods ! what do you know ? 

Out of my sight ! Off with you ! Curse you all ! — 
Seek them, and bring them here. 

Attend. Great Csesar, if- 

Nero. If me no ifs. Be off and bring them here, 
Or you shall answer for it with your head. 

\_Exeunt Attendants. 

Nero {after a pause). No — I'll not wait for them. 
I'll go and find 



8o 



NERO. 



[Act II. 



Poppaea. Ho ! I say. Litter and train, 
Now in the instant. Quick ! 



Enter Agrippina. 

Agrip. Litter and train ! 

So you go forth, my Nero. May I ask 
Whither you go so early in the day? 

Nero. To see Poppsea. 

Agrip. See Poppaea ! Ah ! 



I thought as much- 



Indeed ! 



How many hours 



Nero. 

Agrip. 
Since you last saw her? 

Nero What ? 

Agrip. Can you not live 

One day without her ? 

Nero. No ! 

Agrip. You're always there ! 

Nero. And if I am 

Agrip. 'Tis time that this should cease. 

Nero. Ah ! 

Agrip. Yes ! Look on your tablets that you 

dropped. 



Scene V.] NERO. 8 1 

Look at this letter writ by you to her. 

Look ! Every day — Poppsea ! This must cease. 

Nero. It will not cease. 

Agrip. I say it will, and shall ! 

Nero. Shall ? By the gods, this is indeed too much ! 
Shall ! Look you, mother, I will brook no shalls. 
I'm in no humour to be lectured now. 

Agrip. Nor now, nor any time. You neither heed 
My counsel nor commands. 

Nero. I'm not a boy 

To take commands from you nor any one, 
And once for all I say, leave me alone, 
Or you will rue it. 

Agrip. What ! ungrateful boy ! 

And is it come to this ? You threaten me ! 
Me, who have toiled, and moiled, and wrought, and 

thought, 
Spending my life for you, and only you — 
Hear him, ye gods, this boy here, threatens me 
His mother ! But — beware ! 

Nero. Beware of what ? 

Think you to frighten me by your loud voice ? 
F 



82 



NERO. 



[Act II. 



Am I not master here ? 

Agrip. Master, indeed ! 

Why, you poor, foolish boy, I tell you now 
You could not hold your place a single hour 
Against my will — nay, more, unpropped by me, 
You'd crumble by yourself. Be wise in time ; 
Take heed of what I counsel ; 'tis not much 
I ask, advise, pray — since you scorn commands, 
For your own sake, I pray. 

Nero. I'm in no mood 

For preaching now. Nay, let me pass, I say ! 
Agrip. Where do you go ? 
Nero. . Have you forgot ? I said 

I go to see Poppsea. 
Agrip. You will not ! 

Nero. Ay, so you said before, — but still I go ! 
Agrip. Go, if you dare, but hear before you go — 
Bid your Poppaea (when within her arms 
You lie, and, feeding on her silly face, 
Gloze her with pretty words) remember me ! 
Just whisper Lollia's name, and say to her 
Domitia greets her; 'twill, I think, suffice 



Scene V.] NERO. 83 

To end her kisses. 

Nero. Ah ! you threaten her ! 

Think you that you alone can bend the world 
To all your wishes ! 

Agrip. Nay, I will not boast : 

The end proves all things. 

Nero. Two at any game, 

You know, can play. 

Agrip. And one as surely lose ! 

Give up Poppsea, or her silly face 
Will cost to her her life, to you your crown. 
Why, you yourself, within a brief month's space, 
Will fling her off, and then, too late, may see 
What you have lost. Ah ! she would take my place, 
And I must crawl before her and beseech, 
And you and she will turn me out of doors, 
And I shall creep away, and weep, and wail, 
Like some sick girl : " Oh, Nero, take me back ! — 
Pardon, most fair Poppasa, — crush me not, — 
Give me the little crusts you throw away, — 
I am his mother, — only that, you know, — 
Don't let me starve ! " — and she will raise me up, 



8 4 



NERO. 



[Act II. 






Perhaps, if so she please, and let me live. 

Nero. This is sheer folly. 

Agrip. Ah ! I know the game. 

Great heavens ! you little know me if you think 
That I will yield my place to any one. 
Give her up, Nero. 

Nero. No ! I tell you, no ! 

Agrip. No ? You defy me then? — So be it. — Still 
I warn you — pause, reflect ; force not my hand 
To do an act abhorrent to my heart. 

Nero. What can you do ? 

Agrip. Do ? Do ? Why, sim- 

ply this : 
Britannicus is there — whom from his throne 
I thrust for you, — still lives — the rightful heir. 
Say, — do you hear me ? Lives ! The rightful heir. 
Defy me, and I'll take him by the hand, 
And bear him with me to the camp; cry out, 
" Behold the real emperor in this boy — 
This noble boy, whom no foul vices stain ! 
Will you, then, grovel under Nero's rule, 
While here the imperial heir, this gentle youth, 



Scene V.] N E R O. 85 

Calls you to place him on his father's throne ? " 
What could you do to ward away this blow ? 
Sing them a song ? Go caper in a dance ? 
Fall in a rage ? Get drunk ? or run and hide 
Your silly head in your Poppasa's lap ? 

Nero. You would not do it. 

Agrip. Ay, indeed, 'twere hard, 

After the toil of thought, the skill of art, 
That I have given for you ; the sleepless nights 
Spent for you, and the busy anxious days, 
To ruin all the fabric I have reared : 
But I would do it, ere I bent my knee 
To any rival on the throne, much less 
To that Poppaea. Count on me for that. 
Ay, I would strike the blow even did my head 
Lie under it — would strike the temple down 
That I had reared, though it should crush me too. 

Nero. I fear you would. 

Agrip. What do I ask of you ? 

Nothing, — a little gratitude at most. 
What do I ask that is not for your good ? 
To yield a day's whim for a foolish girl ; 



86 



NERO. 



[Act II. 



To do your duty ; not to waste your days 
In rioting, and drunkenness, and vice. 

Nero. Mother, enough : I'll think on what you say. 

Agrip. Why, that's my boy at last : think over it. 
I counsel for your good, be sure of that. 
Why have I dispossessed Britannicus ? 
Why have I dared and done, except for you ? 
Think on it, — act on it. 

Nero. Trust me. I will. 

I'll think on what you have said, nor only think, 
But act upon it, too. 

Agrip. Give me your word, 

You will not see Poppaea. 

Nero. I have said 

I'll think upon it, 

Agrip. Nero ! if your face 

Be any index of your mind, I see 
Fierce insurrection in your every thought. 

Nero. I'll not be driven more : enough of this ! 
I've heard your threats, — you've struck the goads in 

well — 
And if they do not sting, 'tis not your fault. 

Agrip. You mean rebellion ! Well, rebel, and then, 



Scene V.] NERO. $7 

When foiled and bleeding in the dusty ring, 

Rise up with broken arms and shield reversed, 

And flee to Burrhus or to Seneca. 

Flee to your Tigellinus, — ask the aid 

Of your Petronius j pray your friends to draw 

The avenging sword. If any of the crew 

That dance, and sing, and revel all night long, 

Refuse to pluck the flowers from off their brows, 

Refuse to start up from their mad debauch, 

Turn round and face the facts yourself, and try 

If any manhood in your blood there be ! 

I tell you, if you measure swords with me, 

You measure them alone. At my first sign, 

Those friends of yours would scatter as men fly 

Forth from a tottering house when the earth quakes ! 

Look you ! — you've not a friend of all the crew 

That counts your life as much as one debauch. 

Whatever comes — remember this — at last, 

When your day comes, — and there's a day for all, — 

You'll find yourself alone, with one weak hand, 

Your own, against a myriad bloody blades. 

Now— go to your Poppaea, if you will ! 

\Exit Agrippina. 



88 NERO. [Act II. 

Nero. Poppsea ! No ! I will not give her up. 
No ! Come what will, I will not give her up. 
Britannicus ; — ah ! that's the game she plays. 
Well, my Britannicus, look to it, then ! 
The next time, if Locusta fails me not, 
I'll make all sure. You shall not sing again 
Andromache's grand wail on fallen Troy, 
As on that Saturnalian night, to wake 
A maudlin pity for you in the guests ! 
No, no ! The time has come to end all that. 
Not to Poppaea — to Locusta now ! 
Oh, my dear mother, thanks ; you've shown your hand. 
I'll be before you. To Locusta now ! 



Scene VI. — Banquet, Imperial Palace. 

AGRiPPrNA, Octavia, Nero, Britannicus, Seneca, 
Burrhus, Pallas, &c. 

Nero. This honey has the very breath of flowers. 
Here, try it, Seneca. 



Scene VI.] NERO. 89 

Sen. Thanks, Cassar, thanks — 

Tis excellent. 

Nero-. You say in Corsica 

'Tis not so sweet ? 

Sen. It has an acrid taste. 

The bees feed on the box-flower, and it spoils 
The honey's flavour. 

Oct. Is it pleasant there ? 

Sen. Not to an exile ; 'tis a barbarous land, 
Fruitless, with ne'er an olive on its slopes, 
Rugged and bare. 

Oct. You were not happy there ? 

Sen. There is no land wherein man cannot dwell, 
And lift his eyes to heaven ; and yet, in truth, 
I was not happy there. 

Brit. But still, you say, 

It is the mind alone makes happiness, 
Not place, — and so say all philosophers. 

Sen. True, — but I still regretted friends and Rome. 
And there were moments when a longing pain 
Came over me for all that I had left, 
All I had loved. 



90 NERO. [Act II. 

Agrip. Well, that is over now. 

Sen. Thanks to your grace. 

Brit. To live without a friend 

Is sad enough — is't not, Octavia? 

Oct. 'Tis love alone that makes life's happiness; 
Exile is cruel, but the worst of fates 
Is to be friendless ; as for solitude, 
I sometimes think 'twould have a sweeter charm 
Than all the noise and fret of public life. 

Brit. Ay, for a time ; yet not, I think, for long. 
Life has its duties, and the bright sword rusts 
Too long hid in the scabbard : as for me, 
Rome, friends, and life ! 

Nero. Burrhus, what news in Rome ? 

Bur. None, Caesar. 

Pal. Still they talk of your last feat : 

How in the amphitheatre you won 
The crown for singing. 

Nero. They still talk of that? 

Pal. Ay, that they do — how perfect was your voice ! 
How clear and pure the expression of the piece ! 
Though you are Caesar, you have put to shame 






Scene VI.] NERO. 9 1 

Our best of singers : they acknowledge it. 

Nero. Ah, is it so ? And yet, I think, my harp 
Not far behind my singing. 

Pal. No, in faith — 

Abreast of it ; nor yet a jot behind 
Your chariot-driving : with what skill and ease 
You guide those fierce steeds at their fullest speed ! 

Nero. You flatter, Pallas. 

Pal. On my faith, not I ! 

Nero. Anotus — here — give me to drink, I say. 

[An otu s pours out the w me: Nero whis- 
pers to him leaning back. 
Have you that potion ready as I bid ? 

Anot. Caesar, I have. 

Nero. Mind you confound it not 

Among the vases : take good heed of that ! 
Wait near Britannicus— let no one else 
Fill up his cup. 

Anot. Cassar, I understand. 

Agrip. Hark, how it storms ! That sharp, blue, 
vivid flash 
Half-blinded me. And listen how it growls, 



92 NERO. [Act II. 



That heavy trampling thunder overhead ! 
Think you it struck the palace ? 

Oct. Mighty Jove ! 

I pray it did not. 

Nero. Little fear of that. 

Brit. How the poor wretches must be drenched to- 
night ! 
Cowering beneath the hedges and on plains, 
While the fierce lightnings plunge from heaven at them. 

Nero. Jove's lightnings need a higher prey than 
those. 

Oct. Happy the low, who do not fear their bolts ! 

Nero. Why? Do you fear them ? 

Oct. Yes ; they make me quake. 

Agrip. Nay, never fear : lean closer here to me. 

Nero. Ho, music ! just to drown this noise — more 
lights 
To hide these flashes ! So, they talk of me 
And of my singing still ? 

Pal. Ay, that they do ! 

Nero. I mean some time to try my hand in Greece 
At the Olympian games, and win a crown. 









Scene VI.] NERO. 93 

Agrip. A crown — for what? For singing? or for 

speech ? 
Brit. Give me to drink — ho ! Fill my cup, I say. 
Nero. Thank you, good mother. 

[Anotus pours out to Britannicus, who 
puts the cup to his lips. 
Brit. 'Tis too hot ; here, pour 

A drop of water in to temper it. 

[Anotus pours from another vase. Bri- 
tannicus drinks, then instantly falls 
back speechless and gasping. All the 
guests start tip. 
Agrip. Help ! help ! great Jove ! — Britannicus is ill ! 
Speak — speak, Britannicus ! — what ails you, boy ? 
Speak ! — ah, he cannot speak ! Octavia ! 
Pallas ! here, help me ! Where is Xenophon ? 
Fly for him — some one. Oh, great Jove ! quick ! 
quick ! 
Nero. Sit, friends — 'tis but a fit : he's often thus ; 
A falling sickness — what physicians call 
An epilepsy : sit — there is no need 
Of all this pother. Lift him from his couch. 



94 NERO. [Act II. 

Carry him out ; he'll soon be well again. 

He often suffers from such fits as this. 

Poor boy ! Sit — sit — my friends, and let not this 

Disturb your mirth : 'tis nothing. 

[They lift Britannicus, and carry him out. 
Speak to them, 
Octavia ! {Grasps her by the arm, and whispers.) Speak, 

and don't sit trembling thus, 
Pale as a ghost ! 

Oct. I cannot. 

Nero. Speak to them, I say ! 

Oct. I hope, my friends, it is as Caesar says, 
A fit. Oh Nero, let me go — I'm ill ! 

Nero. No, by the infernal gods, you shall not go ! 

[Guests sit down again. 
_Agrip. With your permission, Caesar, I'll retire 
To tend your brother. 

Nero. Go, I pray you, go ! 

[Agrippina walks out. 
Bur. I think, 'twere better we should go as well, 
Craving my Caesar's pardon. Vain it were, 
After this painful scene, to think of mirth. 



Scene VI.] NERO. 95 

Nero. Go, if you will \ but I assure you all 
'Tis nothing : go, and order vows for him, 
That our dear brother soon be well again. 

[T/ze guests go out. 
Fool ! Idiot ! To your room ! Away, I say ! 
Your silly, ghastly face makes me half-sick. 

Oct. Oh Nero ! [She goes out. 

Nero. So, Locusta failed me not. 

[Re-enter Agrippina. 
How is Britannicus ? 

A grip. Dead. 

Nero. Are you sure ? 

Agrip. Go, see his corpse there, and assure yourself. 

Nero. Dead ? Poor Britannicus ! — who might have sat 
Upon this very throne instead of me. 

A grip. Nero ! 

Nero. My mother. 

Agrip. Ah, I understand ! 

Nero. Take him, and make him emperor if you can. 

END OF ACT II. 



9 6 



ACT III. 



Scene I. — Imperial Palace. 
Agrippina. 

Agrifi. I must retrace my steps. Fool that I was 
To think by threats to rule him. Now, indeed, 
Britannicus is dead, that way is closed. 
So, you and I, Poppsea, for his love 
Must struggle : I am older — I have passed 
My seventh lustrum ; — still I am in my prime, 
And youths love women older than themselves. 
No other course is left ; and if that fails 
All fails, and I must yield. I will not yield ! 
What ! /sink down into the second place ! 
Still — still the contest with Poppsea 's hard. 
Yes, though I hate her — hate her — I'm not blind 



Scene L] NERO. 97 

For she is fair, young, dowered with dangerous gifts, 
And capable to use them. No more threats ! 
I cannot drive him. I must lure him back 
By arts of love. That is my only course. 

Enter Nero. 

How fares my Caesar now, — my pride, my joy? 

Nero. Well, mother — well ! 

Agrip. Let me arrange your 

dress ; 
'Tis in disorder ; there, that's better now. 
Lie on this couch, and I will place me here, 
And let us have a little hour of talk. 
You are not going out ? 

Nero. No, mother, no. 

Agrip. I'm glad to see your face so calm and 
bright, 
Without that trouble on your brow that late 
So clouded it. Ah well, all's right at last. 
Yes ! Rome already has forgotten all. 
Forgetting is forgiving. Now, indeed, 
Your seat is safe ; there's none to threaten it. 
G 



NERO. 



[Act III. 



Nero. No one but you. 

Agrip. Oh, Nero, speak not thus ! 

Forgive me, if, in jealousy and fear 
Lest others snatched your love away from me, 
I yielded to a moment's anger. Say 
That you forgive me. Nay, remember not 
My foolish words, for who has loved so long, 
So steadily as I ? 

Nero. I would I knew 

What now you purpose. 

Agrip. Purpose ? Only this, 

To keep your love. Without you, what were life ? 
And yet I am so weak. 

Nero. Who, then, is strong? 

Mother, I would you always wore the face 
That now you wear, for it becomes you well. 
Why will you ever thwart me — stand between 
My wishes and my acts ? 

Agrip. Oh, I was wrong. 

Nay, turn not from me — for I need your love — 
Must have it. Once you gave me a child's love, 
And that was dear to me — but that is past. 



Scene I.] NERO. 99 

Nor would it now suffice — I ask for more ; 
Oh ! so much more. 

Nero. I do not understand. 

Agrip. Not understand? Why, how else could 
it be? 
You are so noble, handsome, manly, strong — 
What woman with a heart could look at you 
And fail to love you ? How much more, then, I ? 
Almost I could forget you are my son, 
Almost could wish you were not. Then, perhaps, 
You still might love me. 

Nero. What ? 

Agrip. Oh, do not think 

That love's capacity can ever die 
In woman's heart ! The bloom of youth fades out. 
See, it has gone from me. I am not fair 
As once I was ; yet, still the power to love 
Lives in me deeper — stronger far than when 
I was a trivial girl. Love's feeble rill 
That first slips trembling through the whispering 

grass, 
And plays with any flower upon its marge, 



100 NERO. [Act III. 

Grows deeper, stronger in its onward course, 

Till, like a torrent, fierce, impetuous, wild, 

It forces through all obstacles its way. 

I love you, Nero. Twenty thousand girls 

Could not make up such love as mine for you ! 

My love began when first I heard your voice — 

When first a child you lay upon my breast, 

And every year has only lent it strength. 

Now, as you stand before me full, complete 

In all your manhood, while this heart of mine 

Beats for you as it never then could beat, 

Say, will you throw me off? Give me your love ! 

Do you not see you are my all in all — 

My other life — without which all I am 

Is tame, and weak, and wretched ? Look at me ; 

Tell me you love me, Nero ! 

Nero. By the gods, 

If thus you ever smiled and thus you spake, 
I could forget you were my mother ! 

Agrip. Ah ? 

Nero. I could indeed. 



Scene I.] NERO. IOI 

Agrip. Well, then, forget it. — Yes ! 

What matters names if I possess your love ? 

Oh Nero ! Nero ! Nero ! pity me. — 

Oh, more than pity me ! Forget the past. 

In a new life now let us spend our days ! 

Trust me : for none will love you, cling to you, 

Joy in you, struggle for you, die for you, — 

As I will ! 

Nero. Ah ! I would this all were true ! 
Agrip. True ? It is true. Believe me, — trust in me. 
No light girl's love can be so strong as mine ! 
She'll play with you, caress you, lead you on, 
Make sport of you, and throw you off at last ! 
But I — I feel my very heart-strings now 
So grapple to you, that nor life, nor death, 
Nor any stroke of Fate can loose their hold ! 
Lean on my breast, my Nero : feel my heart 
How fierce it beats, — and only beats for you ! 

Nero. I fear you ; though within my sense you wake 
Strange fancies. For, by heaven, your splendid face, 
Your eyes, your lips, are fired as with a flame ! 



102 



NERO. 



[Act III. 



Still, still ! beneath all feelings — down below — 
Lurks a cold dread. I know not what to do, — 
I dare not trust you. 

Agrip. Oh, indeed, indeed, 
You may ! You must ! I will not lose you thus, — 
You shall be mine ! Though Hades gape, you shall ! 
And I will bar away from you all ill. 
Heed no one's words but mine, — heed no one's love,- 
For mine is vast enough to drown them all ! 
Here on my knees, here prone before you now, 
I supplicate. Oh, Nero 

Nero. Mother, rise ! 

Agrip. No, Nero, no, I will not rise, I say, 
Until you swear you will not cast me off. 

Nero. Rise, rise, I say, — I will not have you there. 

Agrip. Then leave me here, or lift me up yourself! 

\He lifts her up. 

Nero. There, there, compose yourself, — drive me not 
mad. 
Some one approaches, — that is Pallas' voice ! 

Agrip. Pallas? Then leave me ! 

Nero. Shall f let him in 



Scene IL] NERO. 103 

Agrip. No, no ! — Yes ! No ! — Go, join him ; — leave 
me here. 



[Exit JVero. 



Oh, I will hold him yet, despite of her ! 



Scene II. — Forum. 

Pallas, Piso, Flavus. 

Pal. An ugly scene it was indeed : the storm 
Darting sharp flashes through the lighted hall, 
That startled all to silence, — then, again, 
The talk beginning. — Suddenly we heard 
A gasp — the young Britannicus fell back. 
All was confusion — terror; — only one 
Of all was calm. 'Twas Nero. There he sat 
As 'twere a thing of every day to him. 
" 'Tis but a fit," he said, — " merely a fit ; 
Let it not interrupt the gaiety." 

Piso. I think there's not a spark of pity in him. 



104 NERO. [Act III. 

Flav. And what did Agrippina say and do ? 
Think you that she abetted the foul crime ? 

Pal. She ? No ! The terror in her face — her cries — 
Showed she was guiltless. 

Piso. So you think at least ? 

Pal Nay, I am sure. Besides, his death to her 
Was utter loss ; for so long as he lived 
She held a rod to frighten Caesar with, 
And make him do her bidding. 

Piso. That is true. 

'Twas, then, his work alone. 

Pal. Of course it was. 

Now that the fear is off his mind he'll sleep 
More quiet ; for the rabble Romans here 
Have talked it out, and quite forgotten it. 

Flav. Well, he has bought our silence ; none of us 
Are poorer for his brother's so-called fit : 
Even our great philosopher, whose text 
Is mercy, clemency, and all the charm 
Of poverty, has had his mouth shut close. 
Piso. What did he pay him ? 
Pal. Ask him that yourself. 



Scene III.] NERO. 105 

Flav. The Senate, too, have had their bribe. By Jove ! 
That edict, with its sad laments and tears, 
That Nero wrote (or Seneca for him 
More likely), is enough to make one laugh, — 
If one could laugh after a deed like this. 

Pal. Flavus, your virtue almost makes me weep. 
But here comes Lucan. He will read us now 
Some noble verses — sounding forth the praise 
Of our accomplished Caesar — like to those 
That he recited lately at the Games. 

Piso. I'm sick of them. Come, who will go with me ? 

Flav. Let us all go together. 

Pal. Good ! agreed ! 



Scene III. — Poppcea's house. 

Nero and Popp^ea. 

Nero. What shall I say or do, Poppsea ? Speak, 
I will obey you. 



106 NERO. [Act III. 

Pop. I'll not counsel you. 

Do what you will. You see it comes to this, 
That you must choose between us — her or me. 

Nero. That's quickly done. You, you, and only you ! 

Pop. You would have both hands full. That is your 
way — 
And 'tis impossible. 

Nero. You scarce can think 

There is a moment's choice 'twixt you and her. 

Pop. I know not what you wish. Here you profess 
You love me. What, away from me, you say 
To her or to your mother, who can tell ? 

Nero. You know I love you ; that your voice, your 
smile, 
Your presence, are life's all-in-all to me. 
I cannot live without you ; but in vain 
I knock against your heart — your cold, barred heart 
That will not let me in ! Caught in your toils, 
I writhe and quiver like a helpless fly 
Snared by a spider. 

Pop. Thanks : the simile 

Is kind, considerate, gracious, if not new. 



)ur 



Scene III.] NERO. 107 

Nero. I did not think of you, but of myself. 

Pop. True, very true ! Why should you think of me ? 
What am I that great Caesar should take heed 
Of what he does or says to one like me ? 

Nero. Forgive me, dearest ! Oh, Poppsea, mine ! 
Heed not my stupid phrases, my wild words,— 
I know not what I say ! I love you so, 
That all goes wild within me, — all my thoughts 
Blow here and there like loose leaves in a gale. 
You must be mine ! Come life, come death to me, 
You shall be mine, I say ! 

Pop. Caesar, be calm ! 

Nero. Say that you love me ! 

Pop. No, I will not say 

I love you. Caesar, you've another wife ! 
You come to play at leisure hours with me 
For selfish pastime, — as one plucks a flower 
To wear it for a moment on his breast, 
Then throw it down into the dusty road, 
There to be trampled on by all the world ! 
I will not love you — will not hold you back 
Even by a word. I am not sure of you ! 



108 NERO. [Act III. 

How do I know this moment's phantasy 

That binds you to me, may not snap apart 

At passion's first sharp wrench, and I be left 

Helpless, alone, on danger's perilous steep, 

With death's abyss before me, and behind ! 

I will not dare such danger. Here I lay 

Moored, — all at peace within my bay of life, 

When you came in to tempt, to lure me forth 

Into this tempest. No, I am not strong 

To brave these whirlwinds. Leave me here in peace ! 

Nero. You doubt me ? By what pledge, or oath, or 
act 
Can I assure you ? If I cast away 
This woman that my mother made me wed, 
Will you be mine ? or is your heart so hard 
It has no pity ? 

Pop. She is still your wife. 

I would not do her wrong. Go back to her : 
She loves you, and I give you up to her. 

Nero. Why do you fret my patience thus ? You know 
I hate her. That I cannot live with her. 
At every step she clogs me like a chain. 



Scene III.] NERO. IO9 

Pop. So you will say of me, when the first zest 
Of this wild whim of love has passed away. 

Nero. Never ! no, never ! 

Pop. Never is too long : 

Say for six months 

Nero. By the immortal gods ! 

Pop. No oaths — I like not oaths — nor promises : 
'Tis only deeds are solid — not mere words : 
They are blank air. They leave no trace behind, 
And the same air the tongue one moment coins 
To a rash promise, may be coined again 
To its reverse before the words are cold. 

Nero. You have small faith in me. Would to the 
gods 
I hated you. You might believe me then. 

Pop. Perhaps. I'd trust your hate more than your 
love. 
It is a sterner passion — longer lived 
And deeper rooted. 

Nero. Try me, test my love : 

Ask anything — no sacrifice is great 
If it will only win thee for my own. 



110 NERO. [Act III. 

Pop. I ask for nothing. Think on what you say : 
Tempt me no further — leave me now alone. 

Nero. I will divorce Octavia — on my oath 
I promise it — if you will be my wife. 

Pop. You cannot do it even if you would. 
And more, I will not, cannot, dare not wish 
This sacrifice of her who never harmed 
Me, you, or any one. I envy her, 
I own it, she is lifted up so high ; 
She is so fair and good, that in her sight 
I am mere rubbish ; yet I wish her well. 

Nero. Then take her place. She will be happier far, 
Freed from a yoke that irks both her and me. 

Pop. No ! never ! 

Nero. I will do it then for you ! 

Pop. Never ! You dare not while your mother lives. 
' Nero. All things I dare for you. 

Pop. Oh, idle boast ! 

You dare not brave your mother. Even you, 
Caesar, enthroned, the master of the world, 
Shrink at her lifted finger. How should I, 
A weak poor woman, with no power at all 






Scene III.] NERO. Ill 

More than a reed has, bending to the blast, 
Stand up against her ? Yet you urge me on 
To brave her. You, forsooth ; you urge me on 
Who in no least thing dare oppose her will. 

Nero. I do ; I will. She shall not rule me more. 

Pop. Fine words ! 'Tis lucky that she hears you not, 
Or that brave tongue of yours would change its tone. 

Nero. You think I am a coward. 

Pop. No, not that, 

Only a boy still in your leading-strings. 
You look an emperor. Are you one ? oh no ! 
My little boy must ask his dear mamma, 
Shall I do this ? Shall I do that ? And then 
Mamma says, Fie ! and he begins to cry. 

Nero. Poppsea ! 

Pop. Well ! 

Nero. No more of this. 

Pop. Well, then, 

Act like a man. Send her away from Rome ; 
Be your own master. 

Nero. Would that she were dead. 

Pop. She will not die with wishing. 



112 NERO. [Act III. 

Nero. She shall go ! 

I will not have her longer here in Rome. 

Pop. Ay ! send her forth. Break off with her at once. 
Bid her change air. Tell her her health demands 
Some relaxation from the cares of state. 
Threaten not — quarrel not — put on the mask 
Of care and kindness — but get rid of her — 
Then we shall both breathe freer, you and I. 
Neither are safe so long as here she lives. 

Nero. So long as anywhere she lives, she plots. 
Yes ! she shall go. 

Pop. Heed not her honeyed words ; 

Heed not her protestations of feigned love. 
The serpent seeks to charm you ere it stings. 
Heavens ! that last scene of hers within me moves 
Scorn, pity, laughter, — admiration too — 
'Twas so well acted. 

Nero. Acted ? 

Pop. Oh ! you thought 

It was all real— that her tender heart 
Was touched with passion for you — did you not ? 

Nero. I know in all her glow she seemed to me, 



Scene III.] NERO. 113 

Despite her age, despite of all I know, 
A splendid creature. 

Pop. Then go back to her : 

Tell her I sent you, for I would not keep 
Her lover from her. 

Nero. Are you mad ? 

Pop. I, mad ? 

No ! but it seems to me you are. 

Nero. I say 

I fear her. She's a terror to my soul : 
I would to all the gods that she were dead. 
She dogs my path — she spies my every act. 
Go where I will, her shadow follows me. 
She knows this very moment I am here, 
And, knowing it, how am I sure to-night 
She will not drug my cup, and over me 
Tower like a fate, and triumph while I writhe. 

Pop. You fear her thus, and yet you keep her here — 
Here in your house, to play the spy on you — 
Live with her, eat with her — ay, drink with her, 
And tell me that you dread a poisoned draught. 
Do I not know if this were real fear, 
H 



114 NERO. [Act III. 

Not mere pretence to win me to your will, 

Long, long ere this she would have joined her friends 

She sent before her, Lollia and the rest. 

Nero. All my schemes fail. She has some secret 
Some magic power that helps her to escape ; 
So, when I charged her with conspiracy, 
How swift she slipped away, charming the sense 
Of those who should have judged her — coming forth 
Out of the trial brighter than before. 
Nor this alone, — Locusta played me false. 

Pop. Poison ! Oh, Nero ! not a word of that ! 
'Tis wrong, — 'tis dangerous. 

Nero. I was driven to it 

By very fear of her, — what could I do ? 
But all was useless — she has antidotes 
To every poison ; and besides — besides, 
She is my mother, — though her rule be hard, 
Harsh, hateful — she has thought and toiled for me. 

Pop. Only for you ! indeed ? Only for you ? 
Ah ! you are right, she only thought of you — 
She is your mother. Well, if she's so kind, 
Why do you rail and storm so — why this fear? 



Scene III.] NERO. 1 1 5 

Leave me, and go to her ; — no one shall say 
I sought to rob you of her. Go — at once. 

Nero. You drive me mad. What would you have 
me do? 

Pop. I ? — nothing. Do not ask me what to do. 
Only it vexes me — this ebb and flow 
Of ever- varying passion. Choose yourself ! 
I give no counsel ; you shall never say 
I counselled you to any course — save this, 
No crimes — no crimes, for God's sake : for the rest, 
You only must decide ;■ and as for me, 
Leave me in peace, or else these fits and starts 
Of yes and no will pull down death at last 
To overwhelm us both, — not me alone. 
I will have nought to do with her or you : 
I fear you both, and Jove knows which the most. 

Nero. You do not fear me ? 

Pop. Ay, indeed I do. 

You'll be my ruin at the last, I know. 
Not for ill-will — not wishing any harm, 
But through a moment's weakness — or mere chance — 
A moment's passion — some fierce sudden fit 



i6 



NERO. 



[Act III. 



Of madness — somehow, though I see not how, 
You'll ruin me. It is my fate, I know. 
And yet — and yet — fool that I am — weak fool, 
I let you drag me on ; like some poor moth, 
I flit about the flame, sure at the end 
To shrivel me to death. 

Nero. Oh, speak not thus ! 

My love — my soul — what is there on this earth 
So dear to me as you are ?■ As the flower 
Can know no colour hidden from the sun, 
So can I know no joy deprived of you. 
All else is shadow, all else weariness. 
Let us no longer talk of these sad themes 
That torture and harass us. See, how calm 
This perfect day lies brooding over Rome ! 
Not a leaf stirs — and from the distant hills 
The air comes sweet and mild and passionless, 
Laden with odours, breathing only peace. 
Smile, dear Poppaea. Smiles become that face — 
Dear, face, that never should look grave or sad. 

Pop. Ah, Nero ! would that we could find a port 
Where the world's agitation should not reach, 






Scene III.] NERO. 117 

Where danger did not threaten — where the sky 
Was ever calm without a darkening cloud 
To breed its lightning on the horizon's verge : 
There, we might dare be happy — there alone ; 
Not here — not here. Jove knows within my heart 
'Tis rest, 'tis peace, I crave. I would be friends 
With all the world ; my feet are wearied here 
Treading along these perilous defiles 
That beetle over death, — blown by wild gusts 
That tear and strain me. Oh, I long for rest. 

Nero. Vex not your spirit more, — all will come right ; 
We will be happy, spite of all the world ; — 
At least this hour, — if only for an hour, — 
Let us enjoy what life has given us, 
Nor cast our looks into the Future dim : 
Only the present moment can we own ; 
Come — shall we have some music — will you sing ? 

Pop. I have no spirits. 

Nero. Come, love, sing to me. 

Pop. No; you shall play me something on the 
lyre : 
Yes — that will soothe me — while I lie and hear. 



n8 



NERO. 



[Act III. 



Nothing so dear as music. Its pure voice 

Smooths out our agitations, — calms our griefs, 

Quickens our gladness, — lends to love itself 

A sweeter tone in which to tell his tale ; 

Tis to our words what perfume is to flowers, 

Or sunset to the rudest roughest forms, 

Enchanting all things with its subtle power : 

Yes, let us lay one moment with its spell 

These torturing themes, which tear the very heart. 

Come with me. What a tangled skein life is ! 

[Exeunt. 



Scene IV. — Villa of Agrippina. 
Agrippina and Acerronia. 



Agrip. Well, Acerronia, I have lost, you see ; 
Poppsea triumphs on us. Here am I 
Shelved, driven forth from Rome and all its life, 
Here prisoned — for a prison, save in name, 
Is this dull place. How tedious, dreary, stale, 



Scene IV.] NERO. 1 1 9 

Is this blank life — nothing to do or be ! 

Acer. Be patient, lady. Time and use will take 
The edge from its discomfort. 

A grip. Time will bring 

The chance for my revenge. To that alone 
My hopes look forward ; were it not for that, 
I'd end it all at once ; better be dead 
Than rot inactive. 

Acer. Lady, say not so ! 

Here you are safe at least — no danger here 
Threatens your life. This calm and peaceful place 
Will soothe your thoughts. 

Agrip. No, 'tis the very peace 

That drives me mad. 'Tis danger that I court. 
Poor comfort to the soldier to be told 
That peace is not so dangerous as war. 
'Tis war he covets — thence his glory comes, — 
The stir, the struggle, even the defeat 
Is better than the tedious, drowsy life 
Where stupid peace sweats, sleeps, and vegetates. 

Acer. Count this seclusion, then, some quiet port, 
Wherein you may repair your shattered strength ; 



120 



NERO. 



[Act III. 



Fitting yourself, when comes the day, the chance, 
For the new battle. 

Agrip. Ay, there's comfort there ! 

Poor comfort ; but the best that now remains. 
How long have we been here ? 

Acer. 'Tis but a month. 

Agrip. It seems an age ; — only a little month ! 
I would at least that Pallas were with me. 
But no, — his cruel hand tears all away ; 
Not even my German soldiers he has left 
To me, an empress, and his mother too. 

Acer. Distract your mind from it. The evening 's cool ; 
Let me persuade you through the terraced walks 
To stroll a space. See, o'er the distant slopes, 
The purple splendour of the dying day ! 
How fair it is ! Hark, there, the throbbing song 
Of the hid nightingale amid the trees. 
Come, breathe the outer air — I pray you, do. 

Agrip. I have no heart for it, yet I will go. 

[Goes towards the terrace. 
Whose are those galleys rounding yonder point, 
Oaring their way along the tranquil sea ? 



Scene IV.] NERO. 121 

Look, how the sunlight flashes on their gold ! 

Acer. They must be part of Anicetus' fleet, 
That, as I hear, are off Misenum now, 
Rounding the cape to Baiae. 

Agrip. Do they bear 

The Admiral to Caesar ? Here am I, 
And I know nothing — nothing — while the world 
Goes on without me, — takes no heed of me, — 
Passes me by the same as I were dead. 

Acer. 'Tis a fair sight. How evenly the oars 
Now rise, now dip, and now an eagle tall, 
And now a shield flings flashing back the sun ! 

Agrip. What scheme's afoot ? Great Heaven, that I 
should rot 

In ignorance here while all the world's astir 
In busy life ! Oh, Caesar, send for me ! 
Ay, though it be to kill me. Better death 
Than this blank monotone of dreary life. 

Acer. Think not so sadly on it. 

Agrip. I could tear 

My very heart out. Do not think of it ? 
Why, what then should I think on ? Do you dream 



122 NERO. [Act III. 



I can wipe out all memory of the past, 
All longings, cravings, after what I've lost ? 
Not think of it ? I think of nothing else. 

Acer. I would that I could help you. 

A grip. Come away, 

No one can help me — none but one, and he, 
Caesar, who will not. Come, I say, away. 






Scene V. — Ccesar's Villa at Bauli. 
Nero, Anicetus. 

Nero. What's to be done ? say, Anicetus, say. 
I have but clipped her wings ; they'll grow again. 

Am. Lives she not quiet in her villa now? 
What need do more than keep her safely there? 

Nero. I cannot be at rest : a constant fear 
Of what she's plotting now possesses me. 
I seem to see her everywhere. I start 
Out of wild dreams thinking I hear her call. 



Scene V.] NERO. 1 23 

Her restless spirit, having nought to do, 
Is building, building, ever in the dark. 
By heavens, I fear her more away from me 
Than when she's with me ! 

Ani. 'Tis an idle fear. 

Nero. 'Tis not. There is no rest for me so long 
As she is living — none by day or night. 
She haunts me ever like an evil dream ; 
I think she has some dark infernal skill 
Of magic power with which she tortures me. 
I will not bear it longer — better here 
Where we can watch her than so far away. 
She might be managed here, perhaps, who knows ? 

Ani. Send for her here, then. Where she is, her 
friends 
Keep guard upon her safety. There's no chance 
Of any accident. 

Nero. No chance indeed ! 

But as it is, I draw not one free breath. 
What's to be done ? say, Anicetus, say. 

Ani. What do you wish ? Speak openly to me ; 
Tell me your wish, and I will see it done. 



124 NERO. [Act III. 

Nero. I wish that she were dead. 

Anu Then let her die. 

Nero. Let her — ay, surely — but she does not seem 
To think of dying. 

Ani. We must think of it. 

Would she come here if you should send for her ? 

Nero. Who knows ? Our open rupture might perhaps 
Lead her to think the message were a snare. 

Ani. Ask, then, her pardon. Say you long for her ; 
Things go at random now that she's away. 
Say that you wish the world to see and know 
That son and mother are no enemies. 

Nero. And then ? 

Ani. Send then a galley for her use. 

If she accept, it shall be trimmed and decked 
Fit for an empress. From its prow and poop 
Let silken streamers flutter. Let her couch 
'Neath a pavilion cloth of gold be spread 
With soft embroidered cushions — while the oars, 
All tipped with gold, keep even rise and fall, 
To music's low recurrent pulse, and bear 
The empress on to Caesar. Nothing stint : 









Scene V.] NERO. 1 25 

Let all be splendid to allure her here. 

Nero. Well, well, — and then ? 

Ani. Scarce is the half-way 

made 
From cape to cape across the open bay, 
When, sudden — for one cannot build so strong 
As to defy all chance of accident — 
Suppose, for instance, that some plank gave way, 
And the high-loaded canopy crashed down. 

Nero. I see ! I see ! Such accident, indeed. 
Spite of our wish, might happen. Let us trust 
It never will ; but should it, we might lose 
Our royal mother, Anicetus — eh? 

Ani. One cannot guard against all accidents. 

Nero. See then the galley be well built. Take heed 
How 'tis constructed. 

Ani. Ay, leave that to me. 

Nero. Do it, my Anicetus — do it quick ; 
Then I shall rest in peace. 

Ani. Leave all to me. 

Nero. I will, I will. Ah, you're my friend indeed ! 
Go, go ! and be my messenger to her. 



126 Nero. [Act III. 



Scene VI. — Villa of Agrippina. 

Agrippina, Acerronia, Anicetus, Agerinus, 
and Attendants. 

Ager. Madam, the Admiral Anicetus craves 
Admission to your presence. 

Agrip. Show him in. 

Anicetus is introduced. 

Agrip. Sir, you are welcome. 

Ani. Health to you and thanks, 

Most noble lady. 

Agrip. To what happy chance, 

Good admiral, do I this visit owe ? 
But welcome, — and whence come you ? 

Ani. I am charged, 

Most noble lady, with the greetings kind 
Of your own son, our Csesar, who is now 
At Bauli; he bids me say to you, 
With the best phrase that lies at my command, 
(Your pardon if a sailor's rough tongue want 



Scene VI] NERO. 1 27 

The skill to speak my message as I should) — 
He bids me say it grieves his heart to think 
On what is past, and throws him at your feet 
To crave your pardon as a loving son. 
It ill beseems that any cloud should be 
'Twixt you and him, or shadow of distrust. 
And for himself, he longs to see your face, 
Now hid from him so long, and ask your aid 
In counsel as to many state affairs. 
And, after all, these are his very words, 
" Friends may "be many, mothers only one." 
And so he bids me beg your company 
At Baiae, where the world again may see 
That no estrangement more between you lies. 

Agrip. Give him my greeting and my love, and say 
I will attend him. Every wish of his 
Is law to me, and ever was to me. 

Ani. Madam, my message is not wholly done. 
Hoping you might accede to his desire, 
He bade me fit a galley to your use 
That should convey you hence along the shore 
To Baiae, where, in anxious hope and love, 



128 



NERO. 



[Act III. 



He waits you. There, in yonder port, it lies. 
If aught it lack befitting to your rank, 
The fault is mine, not his. He bade me spare 
No pains to make it fitting, and I fain 
Would hope I may not utterly have failed. 

Agrip. If it be sound, I have no other need ; 
I will accept this kindly wish of his, 
And thank your zeal as well. When, at what place, 
Does he await me ? 

Ani. He's at Bauli 

To celebrate the sacred festival 
In honour of Minerva. There the crowd 
For many a mile around has flocked to join 
The holy rites and see the festal games. 
He would implore your presence at these rites, 
That all the world might look on you and see 
The love and reverence he fain would show 
To you, his mother. 

Agrip. When does he desire 

My presence? 

Ani. Even when you will — nay, now ; 

The sooner you depart to meet him there 






Scene VI.] NERO. 1 29 

The better it will please him ; I am here 
At your command. 

Agrip. Nay, then I'll go at once ! 
I have no wish to tarry here — and yet 
I do not like the sea, — and now I think 
The wind is rising 

Ani. Look how calm it is ! 

Agrip. It looks so ; yet my head is apt to feel 
The slightest motion. No ; a thousand thanks 
For all your kindness, I will rather take 
My litter and proceed along the shore. 

Ani. I can assure you 

Agrip. Oh, good admiral, 

Your seasoned head would think it always calm 
When mine would turn. Pray do not laugh at me. 

Ani. Most noble lady, look ! the sea is still 
And steady as the floor on which we stand. 

Agrip. No ; we shall be in sight of you the while 
We skirt the shore, and it is better thus : 
Order my litter, Anicetus, now — 
Make ready, friends, we will be off at once. 

[Exeunt all but Anicetus. 
I 



130 NERO. [Act III. 

Ani. Ah ! she suspects. This time the scheme 
breaks down. 



Scene VII. — Baicz — Emperor's Villa — Baidi. 

Nero, Agrippina, Seneca, Acerronia, Anicetus, 
Burrhus, Agerinus, Crepereius, Gallus, and 
others. 

Nero. Welcome, dear mother — welcome best of 
friends ! 
It seems a weary year since last we met. 

A grip. If so it seem to you — to me it seems 
A weary century. 

Nero. Ah ! now indeed 

We can be happy as of yore we were. 
All shadows gone, clear sunshine over all ; 
And are you well ? You look a little pale : 
I hope this journey has not overtaxed 
Your bodily strength. Why came you on by land ? 



Scene VII.] NERO. 1 3 1 

I sent a galley for you. How is this ? 
Why, Anicetus, was the craft so poor, 
So ill-conditioned, that it pleased her not ? 
Look to it, sir ; did I not bid you fit 
The choicest galley in the fleet for her ? 

Agrip. Oh no, my Caesar ! 'twas not that indeed ; 
It was a sumptuous galley, — wanted nought 
For splendour. Our kind Anicetus here 
Obeyed your orders in a regal way. 
It was a foolish woman's whim of mine ; 
Forgive me for it, — but I fear the sea, 
Lest it should turn my head with dizzy qualms. 

Nero. Here from the terrace we looked out for you, 
Gazing upon the galley that we thought 
Was bearing you to us. I only fear 
Your journey tires you, — it was long and hot,— 
Would you repose ? 

Agrip. Oh no, I am not tired. 

Nero. Come with us, then, into the atrium, 
'Tis cooler there. Lean on me ; I am glad 
To have you thus beside me once again. 

[They walk aside ; he speaks low to her. 



132 NERO. [Act III. 

You have forgiven me, — I hope, — I pray. 

Agrip. Ah, Nero, my dear son ! a mother's heart 
Can never keep a rancour 'gainst a son. 
Forgive me, too, — I was too quick, — too harsh ; 
I have repented. Give me back your heart. 

Nero. 'Tis yours, my dearest mother, wholly yours ! 

Agrip. You know not how I suffered there alone, — 
My heart, my hopes, were ever with you here. 

Nero. Dear mother ! Come with us, good friends, 
and pledge 
This happy day, that thus again unites 
Friends who were parted — ne'er to part again. 

Agrip. {aside). Is this all true, or do I dream it all ? 

Nero {to Anicetus). Did she suspect, that she re/used 
to take 
The galley? 

Ani. Yes ; I think she did. 

Nero. Well, keep 

The galley ready, she'll go back in it. 
{Aloud.) Yes !'■ send the sailors wine, and bid them 

pledge 
With flowing cups my noble mother's health, 



Scene VIII. ] NERO. 1 33 

And bid the priests to offer up their vows. 
This is indeed, indeed, a happy day. 
Say, shall we go to table ? you must need 
Refreshment after this long tedious ride. 
Dear mother, welcome yet again, the sun 
Shines brighter on us now that you are here ! 

[ They go in. 



Scene VIII. 
Burrhus and Seneca. 



Bur. What does this mean ? 

Sen. Mischief it means, of course. 

Bur. What is he hatching now within his brain ? 
Sen. Ask Anicetus, for I think he knows. 
I saw the Emperor whispering with him. 
Bur. Has he confided nothing to your ear ? 
Sen. No ; nothing. 
Bur. She is on her guard, I think. 



1 34 NERO.. [Act II] 

Sen. Of course she is ; and yet how well he acts. 
No player better could assume the part. 
He smiles and looks into her eyes, and sighs 
Almost as if he were her lover, — then 
At times he takes her hand and presses it 
Not openly, but bashfully, as 'twere 
From shy affection — then with pretty skill 
Alludes to this, to that, — " Oh, mother dear ! 
Don't you remember?" On my faith I think 
She half believes him ! 

Bur. So in truth it seems. 

Well ; if this sultry day breeds not a storm, 
I am not weather-wise. 

Sen. Do you observe 

How Agerinus never takes his eyes 
From off the Emperor ? How Gallus, too, 
Watches, and starts at every sudden noise ? 
And Acerronia, too, keeps startled guard ? 

Bur. Ay, they keep watch : and Anicetus, too, 
Fidgets too much ; something is on his mind. 

Sen. We do not drive our horse, our horse drives us. 
Little by little all my guidance fails. 



Scene VIII.] NERO. 135 

Each day he grows more wilful, violent, 
Imperious, we can only yield to him. 

Bur. An adder's egg will only hatch an adder, 
Sure in the end to sting. Would I were far 
From Caesar and the court, — I hate it all ! 

Seii. Yet we must stand together to the end. 

Bur. 'Twill not be long, if I read signs aright. 
But peace, they come. 

Enter the Imperial party and attendants. 

Agrip. Darkness draws on, — the rosy clouds that swim 
On the pale twilight sea like golden fish, 
Are fading every moment. It is time 
To leave you. 

Nero. What ! So soon ? Oh stay at least 

One little hour ! How short the day has seemed ! 

Agrip. Time to the happy is so fleet of foot, 
And limps so slow when we are sad at heart. 

Nero. Yet stay awhile. 

Agrip. Indeed I must be gone. 

Darkness comes on apace. See, the keen stars 
Begin to twinkle. 



36 



NERO. 



[Act III. 



Nero. But the night is clear, 

The moon in half an hour will rise, and make 
Your journey brighter. 

Agrip. Dearest Nero, thanks ; 

'Twere better I should go at once'. 

Nero. At least 

You'll not refuse the galley to return. 
The sea is still as glass — burnished with light, 
'Twill bear you gently and without fatigue. 
Say, Anicetus, were't not better so ? 

Ani. Csesar, your royal mother would not know, 
Shut but her eyes, she were not on her couch 
In her own room, on such a sea as this. 

Agrip. Nay, then, dear Nero, be it as you will. 

Nero. I will escort you to the shore myself. 

Agrip. Come, Acerronia, Crepereius, all, 
We will depart. 

Nero. When shall we meet again ? 

Let it be soon, my mother. 

Agrip. When you will. 

Ah ! what a happy, happy day is this ! 

\They go out. 



Scene IX.] NERO. 1 37 



Scene IX. 
Enter two Slaves — Davus and Gallus. 

Dav. Oh Jupiter, how tired out I am ! 

Gal. What work ! I have not sat down half an hour 
Since early morning. I will stretch myself 
Here on this couch. There's no one here to see. 

Dav. Come here ! go there ! — it's thus the livelong 
day. 
I hope they'll soon return. I long for bed. 

Gal. I'd like to have our Csesar for my slave 
Just for one day — one day would be enough 

Dav. Silence : just think so, — don't speak out — 
these walls 
Have ears and tongues. 

Gal. Have they not eyes as well, 

To see you lying there ? 

Dav. I'll risk it. Go, 

Look out, I pray you, Gallus; where are they? 



138 NERO. [Act III. 

Gal. {looks out). She is embarking. They are 
taking leave. 
Oh how he loves her ! Look, they now embrace. 
He kisses her upon her eyes and breast. 
Now the oars lift. Hark ! do you hear the crowd ? 
Now the long train winds backward like a snake 
Along the terraced walks. Quick ! up and off ! 

\Exeunt. 



Scene X. 
Enter Nero, Seneca, Burrhus, and the rest. 

Nero. Farewell, my friends, — leave me awhile alone ; 
I am fatigued. But do not quit the house ; 
Go to the atrium and await me there. 

[They go out. 
Nero alone. 
Rest ! Rest ! I cannot rest ! Almost I wish 
I had not listened to the scheme at all. 



Scene X.] NERO. 1 39 

She was so gentle and so kind to-day. 

It seems a cursed act the gods themselves 

Will not forgive. Would I could call her back ! 

Too late ! too late, now ! yet perchance 'tis not. 

Where are they? [Goes to look out. 

Ah ! too far ! how my nerves twitch ! 
Great God, I wish 'twere over ! In an hour 
'Twill all be over. Let me rest and wait. 

[Lies down, and then suddenly gets up. 
'Tis vain ! I cannot rest ! If they should fail, 
How would the world, that loves me not too well, 
Gather against me ? Hark ! what noise is that ? 
I hear a far and strange confused sound ; 
Torches are flickering all along the shore ; 
The galley's gone ! Oh, what a fool was I 
Not to bid Anicetus signal me 
If all succeeded ! Now I here must wait 
Till I could tear myself from nervousness. 
If, after all, the scheme should fail at last, 
And she escape, — would she not rouse the world 
And hunt me down to death ? Yes, by the gods ! 
Who's there ? ' 



140 



NERO. 



[Act III. 



Enter Seneca, Burrhus, and Anicetus. 
Sen. Caesar, a messenger. 
Nero. A messenger ! From 

where ? 
Sen. Comes from along the shore : sent, as he says, 
To bring you tidings of an accident 
Threatening your mother's life. 



Nero. 



Quick ! bring him in ! 
[Agerinus brought in. 



A dreadful accident ! 



Caesar, she is. 



Your news ! your news ! 

Ager. 

Nero. My mother is alive ? 

Ager. 

Nero. Alive? unhurt? unwounded? — Quick, I say! 
Speak, quick ! 

Ager. Ay, Caesar, all unwounded and unhurt. 

Nero. Great Jove ! Hark, villain ! if you dare to lie 
I'll flay you I 

Ager. I but speak the simple truth. 

Nero. How was it? Speak, and tell your story quick ! 
And don't stand gaping there like a dull fool ! 

Ager. Caesar, — the galley, skirting close to shore, 



Scene X.] NERO. 141 

Had barely doubled the first cape of land, 
When suddenly a startling noise was heard : 
The canopy, 'neath which the Empress lay 
Surrounded by her friends, fell with a crash ! 
The galley opened, — all was wild alarm, 
Cries and confusion ! By some fortune rare, 
The couch's sides, projecting, saved from death 
The Empress. Crepereius perished, crushed, 
And Acerronia, shrieking for her life, 
Cried out she was the Empress. But, alas J 
An oar or pole then struck her, and she sank. 
In vain we sought the Empress, — in the dark 
We thought her drowned ; for everywhere in vain 
We called her, up and down the shore. At last, 
Beyond the crowd, I found her in the charge 
Of some poor fisherman, — who there by chance 
Had seen her floating, and had rescued her. 
To you, great Caesar, her first thought was given. 
" Go, Agerinus, — go," she said, " and bear 
This message to my son. — His mother lives ; 
But bid him calm his fears, — I am not hurt. 
Say that the gods preserved me ! Haste away ! 



142 



NERO. 



[Act III. 



Bear comfort to him ! Tell him not to come, 
For I am safe, — and all I need is rest ! " 

[Anicetus secretly drops a dagger 
at the feet of Agerinus. 

Ani. Look ! what is here ? A dagger ! Seize on him ! 
Assassin ! would you take our Caesar's life ? 

Nero. A dagger ! what ? 

Ani. Oh, villain ! who was it 

Thus set you on ? 

Ager. No one. It is not mine ! 

A?ii. Seize him, I say ! 

Ager. The dagger is not mine, — 

My message was of peace, and not of death. 

Ani. Liar ! it was your mistress sent you here, 
Armed with that dagger for our Caesar's heart ! 

Ager. 'Twas not, — 'tis infamous ! Oh, Caesar, hear ! 

Nero. Off with him ! 

Ager. Caesar, list to me, I say ! 

'Tis all a lie ! 

\He is carried out. 

Nero. Off with him ! Now, indeed, 

What's to be done ? The tigress has broke loose ! 



Scene X.] NERO. 1 43 

You, Seneca, — you, Anicetus, — you, 

Burrhus ! — Will no one speak ? What's to be done ? 

Sen. The moment's grave ! 

Nero. What's to be done, I say ? 

Why stand you silent thus ? 

[After a pause. 
Speak ! act for me ! 
She will be bent on vengeance now : she'll arm 
Her slaves, — she'll stir the army up to rage, — 
She'll to the Senate flee, — dress out this act 
With startling words, with menace, — that may shake 
My throne from me. She'll call me parricide, 
And set the world against me. We must act — 
Act, and at once ! Speak, friends, and counsel me ! 

Sen. Say, Burrhus, can you trust your soldiery 
To finish this bad work ? since it's begun 
It will not do to leave it as it is. 

Bur. She is the daughter of Germanicus, — 
There's no Praetorian that would lift his hand 
To harm her. 

Nero. Gracious gods ! what shall we do ? 

Sen. Yet something must be done, and done at once. 



144 NERO. [Act III. 

Be sure her message is a feint, — she knows 
Her death was menaced. No one head of ours 
Is safe upon our shoulders while she lives. 

Ani. Leave it to me. 

Nero. Yes, yes ! you who began 

Must finish it. 

Ani. I will not fail this time. 

Bur. What is your plan ? 

Ani. My plan is clear enough. 

Why think you that at Agerinus' feet 
I dropped the dagger ? 'Twas to raise the cry, 
That she had sent him to attempt the life 
Of Csesar ! Therefore, with that cry I rouse 
My band of soldiers, — I can trust to them. 
I will assail her, striking down her guards, — 
And trust me this time she shall not escape. 

Nero. Thanks, thanks ! Oh, Anicetus, may the gods 
Reward you ! Thanks, you are the best of friends. 
Go ! go ! and quickly let me know the end ! 

[Anicetus goes ottt. 
Think you he'll fail ? Oh, Burrhus, Seneca, 
Stand by me, — don't desert me ! Are the doors 






Scene XL] NERO. 145 

All closely barred ? Are all the people gone ? 
Where's Agerinus ? think you he is safe ? 

Bur. Fear not ; for we must stand or fall together ! 

Nero. See that the guards are closely set to-night ! 
The watchword ? Ah ! let it be " Best of mothers ! " 
'Twill blind the eyes of those who may suspect. 

Sen. Shall we retire ? 

Nero. No, no ! both stay with me ! 

I would not be alone, — I could not sleep. 
Think you that Anicetus will succeed ? 

Sen. I think he will. Should you not better rest ? 

Nero. I cannot sleep ! I say I cannot sleep ! 



Scene XL — Agrippina's Villa. 

Agrippina and Sosia (her handmaid). 

Sosia. Weep not, my lady ! Rest upon this couch. 
Let me arrange the pillows. Does your arm 
Much pain you ? 

K 



146 NERO. [Act III. 

Agrip. No, 'tis not my arm that pains. 

Sos. Where is the pain, then ? 

Agrip. In my heart, my heart ! 

Sos. What ! were you hurt there, then ? 

Agrip. Yes, hurt to 

death ! 

Sos. What can I do for you to ease your pain ? 

Agrip. Nothing ! no, nothing ! Speak no more to me ! 
Leave me alone ! No, stay ! 

Sos. I pray you rest, — 

This agitation is not good for you : 
Bear up against it ! 

Agrip. Ay, I will — I will ! 

Great Jove ! that all those sweet and honeyed words 
Should be the prelude to so foul a crime ! 
I had not thought him quite so base as that. 
Only my silence saved my life. Oh, foul, 
Unnatural son ! Base, cruel, wicked heart ! 
If Agerinus did his message well, 
Perchance he'll think I deem this savage plot 
Only an accident, and let me live. 
Yet, what is life worth now ? The shadow dread 



Scene XL] NERO. 1 47 

Of Nemesis, that long has dogged my steps, 
Is drawing near to strike her fatal blow, 
And end it all. So be it : better Death 
Than life, thus dragging on, pursued by Fate ! 
Domitius was right ; — what could be born 
From him and me, but some dire monster, sent 
To carry ruin everywhere, — to all ? 
Oh, Nero ! Nero ! You who from this breast 
First sucked your milk, and looked up in my face, 
Smiling, — whom with my love I girt about, — 
For whom in wild, ambitious hopes I cried 
(When the Chaldeans said that should you reign, 
My life should fall a forfeit to your hand), 
" Then let him kill me, if he may but reign ! " 
And now the end that they foretold is near. 
Oh, Nero ! Nero ! 

Listen ! what is that ? 
I hear a noise of trampling feet, — a din 
Of voices, — nearer ! nearer ! 

Call my guards ! 
Let them surround me ! No, you have not time ! 

[Sosia tries to slip away. 



148 NERO. [Act III. 

Stay, stay ! do you desert me too ? Well, go ! 
Here I can die alone ! Whose voice is that? 

[Anicetus breaks in, followed by 
Herculeus and Oloaritus. 
What ! Anicetus ? 

Ani. Ah ! I find you then 

At last ! 

Agrip. I'm here, you see : what does this mean ? 

Ani. It means your messenger hath failed to slay 
Our Caesar, as you ordered him. It means 
That the same death you planned for him returns 
To strike the heart that planned it. 

Agrip. 'Tis a lie ! 

None knows it better than yourself. A lie 
As infamous as false ! Who sent you here ? 

Ani. Caesar, your son ; therefore prepare for death ! 

Agrip. My son ? No, never ! If you mean a crime, 
He sent you not. 'Tis gross, unnatural ! 
He is no parricide ! 

He7\ Peace, woman, peace, 

Your hour has come. Take this that Caesar sends ! 

[Strikes at her — she falls back. 






Scene XL] NERO. 1 49 

Agrip. Not there ! Here — strike the womb that 
Caesar bore ! 

[Anicetus runs her through with 
his sword — all the soldiers cover 
her with wounds. 

[Dies. 
' Ani. Bear her away. So, that is done at last ! 



END OF ACT III. 



150 



ACT IV. 

Scexe I. — Palace of Ceesar. 
Tigellinus, Rufus coming in to him. 

Ruf. Where's Caesar? 

Tigei. In the music-hall. Hark! there! 

He's practising the song he sings to-day. 

Ruf. Ay, 'tis the Juvenalis — I forgot — 
What does he sing ? 

Tigel. A song composed by him 

To his own music. 

Ruf. And how is it ? 

Tigel. Hum !— 

So, so, like all the other things of his. — 
Not bad, not good. 






Scene I.] NERO. 1 5 1 

Ruf. Hark ! there's another voice ! 

Tigel That is the Empress. What a voice is hers ! 
It seems to draw the very soul from you, 
So pure, so thrilling, and so rich and full. 

Ruf. After his hoarse, weak voice, it sounds as clear 
As doth the nightingale's after the crow's. 
How short his breath is ! Listen to him now, — 
Who plays to him ? 

Tigel. He plays himself — 

Ruf. And well ; 

His touch is good ; he plays with taste and skill. 

Tigel. He is an artist, — that we must admit. 
Pity he tries so many forms of art. 
Were he content with one he might excel, 
But nothing will content him ; he aspires 
Not to sing only, but to model, paint, 
Drive, dance, sing, fight, do everything, at once. 
Life is not long enough for every art. 

Ruf. By Hercules ! — not long enough for one. 

Tigel. Yet the great Greeks had two arts at the least, 
And sometimes more. 

Ruf. Exceptions to the rule ; 



152 NERO. [Act IV. 

Margites is the rule ; you recollect 

The old Homeric epigram on him ? 

IToAA' rj-uLcrTOLTO epya koxoos S' rj—Lcrraro Travra — 

" Many a thing he knows, and every one of them ill." 

So is our Caesar. 

Tigel. He is Caesar still. 

He has not failed in that ? 

Ruf. Perhaps ; who knows ? 

It is the end alone that crowns success. 

Tigel. After the storm all things look calm again. 
The hand of Agrippina is at rest ; 
It moves no more to menace or to strike ; 
Poppaea calmly sits upon her throne, 
And poor Octavia far in exile pines, 
Too weak to raise a tumult in the mob. 

Ruf It looks so, but these quiet days breed storm. 
Tigel. Bah ! When the storm comes we shall weather 
it— 
But hark — no more ; I hear their steps approach. 






Scene L] NERO. 153 

Enter Cesar and Popp^ea. 

Tigel. and Ruf. Hail, Caesar ! 

Nero. Hail to both, my worthy friends ! 

Tigel. and Ruf. Hail, madam ! 

Pop. Health and happiness to you. 

Nero. What is the time ? 

Tigel. Two hours as yet to noon. 

Nero. Two hours ! ah, then we have an hour to spare 
Before the Juvenalis. 

Tigel. Shall you sing, 

Caesar, to-day? 

■ Nero. I shall : and, on my soul, 

I think they will applaud my song to-day. 
Music, and words, and playing, all are mine. 
My voice is fresh and clear. Hear, is it not ? 

[Sings a few notes. 
Tigel. Most perfect. 

Nero. Ay, I'm in good voice to-day — 

Say, am I not, Poppaea ? 

Pop. Ay, my lord. 

Nero. There is a draught here. Shut that window close. 



154 NERO. [Act IV. 

Give me a handkerchief. Yes, yours will do, 
My best Poppaea. Ay, so — round my throat — 
These draughts oft breed a sudden huskiness, 
And, as fate wills it, they will always come 
Just when they should not. 

Pop. Nay, I never heard 

Your voice when it was clearer — have no fear. 

Nero. Ah, yes ; I think I shall sing well to-day. 
Those stiff old fools of senators, who frown 
Because a Caesar sings, at least shall own 
That Caesar can sing well ; upon my life, 
What stupid fools they are with all their pride ! 
Why should not Caesar sing ? It is an art 
Practised of old by heroes and by kings, 
Famed in the song of poets, and performed 
In honour of the gods. Music and song 
Are to Apollo sacred. That great god, 
In this same dress, with this same instrument — 
In Grecian and in Roman temples stands 
Sublime, oracular. If Apollo, then, 
That splendid deity, scorn not this art, 
Shall Caesar scorn it? Shall these senseless men 



Scene I.] NERO. 155 

With their sour faces, their besotted pride, 
Dare to scowl on it ? 'Tis too much, in sooth ! 

Tigel. Ah, yes ; they deem with grave and serious airs 
To hide from sight their sheer stupidity — 
The pompous zanies ! 

Nero. But we'll have our art 

Despite them, Tigellinus. Shall I bow 
Before their crabbed wills ? No, no, my friend, 
They'll have to march my way, and to my time. 
Dull owls that dare to jeer the nightingale ! 
Is it not so, Poppsea ? 

Pop. > Ay, my lord, 

Let them deride ; the poet's song shall live 
To be a joy to far posterity, 
When they, and all they say, do, think, and feel, 
Have passed and vanished, leaving no more trace 
To mark their passage than a swallow's wing 
On the unwounded air through which it cleaves. 

Nero. Why, what were Troy, if Homer had not 
sung ? 
What were Antigone or CEdipus, 
Had Grecian poets never told their tale ? 



156 NERO. [Act. IV. 

Or what were Greece bereft of all those arts 
That lent the gods themselves a grander grace, 
A nobler presence, and a larger power ? 
Did not Jove smile on Phidias as he wrought ? 
And yet these senators with trivial saws 
And proud pretences dare deride the Arts ! 
Well, Tigellinus, let them scowl ; we'll laugh 
While we enjoy our life, despite them all. 

Tigel. We will, my Caesar. 

Pop. Not to speak of Greece - 

In our own day will not Marcellus live 
In Virgil's verses — shrined beyond decay, 
Within that amber tomb of deathless verse — 
Whose very name without his aid had passed 
To dark oblivion ? Blest the poet's song, 
The sculptor's art, the painter's living hues, 
That thus can make a transient form, a glance, 
A smile immortal ; time and age defy ; 
Seize the swift-hurrying thought, and bid it stay, 
To be a permanent, perpetual joy ! 

Nero. Yes ; many an after-age shall see your face 
As sweet and fair as now it smiles on me, 






Scene L] NERO. 157 

When both have vanished into death and dust. 
Such power has Art. A thousand years from now ! 
Think of it, think, Poppaea ! 

Pop. True, too true ! 

And yet the thought is sad. We shall be gone, — 
The light will shine for others, not for us. 
We shall be gone, — but these unpitying skies 
Will change not — careless of who comes and goes ; 
Smile on new lives, forgetful of the old, 
And feel no shadow of regret. How cold, 
How heartless Nature seems to man ! With her, 
All are alike : she knows no favourites ; 
She has no love, no hate, — all are alike ! 

JVero. No ; she has given you a lovely face 
That she denies to others. To us all 
She gives the present, — we are free to cull 
What joys we will, — they lie upon our path 
If we will take them. 

Pop. No, she does not give ; 

She lends an instant, and then snatches back 
The moment's gift. What can we call our own ? 
What can we keep and hold ? Nothing is ours. 



158 NERO. [Act IV. 

She only taunts us ; — every joy she gives 
Slips from our hold the instant it is given. 
With faithless promises she lures us on, 
And laughs at us. The Present ? no, even that 
She gives not, — in an instant 'tis the Past ! 

Nero. Time's current runs, and we must go with it 

Tigel. Indeed it does. Time goes \ the hour draws near 
For the Juvenalis. 

Nero. Ay, 'tis time to think 

How I shall dress. Your counsel ; — shall I wear 
Apollo Citharsedus' flowing robes, 
Broidered with gold, and sweeping to the ground, 
Pure perfect white ? Will that become me best ? 
Or shall I wear the Asian dress, all loosed, 
Without a girdle, and with drooping sleeves ? 

Pop. The Asian dress. 'Tis here. I like this best 
So, — we will robe you. Now this wreath of flowers, - 
Roses, fresh roses, in your golden curls — 
'Twill give them a fresh lustre. Now clasp on 
These bracelets, they set off your arms so well ; — 
Ay, that is right. 

Nero. Thanks, my Poppaea, thanks ! 






Scene I.] NERO. 1 59 

There is a kiss for you ! How do I look ? 

Pop. Bright as Apollo ! 

Nero. Now, then, let us go. 

Come, Tigellinus : come, my dearest love. 

Pop. Go, I will join you in the portico, — 
I must arrange my hair. 

Nero. Be not too late. 

Pop. Nay, never fear : I would not miss your song 
For a whole galley laden down with pearls. 

Nero. Then you shall have them, if you are not late. 

\Exeunt all but Popp^ea. 

Pop. Ah, Nero ! Nero ! were you ever thus ? 
What could I ask for more ? Should I not be 
Too happy — yes, too happy ? But how long 
Will this mood last, — who knows, alas ! who knows ?• 
Well, well, I will not darken this bright hour 
With sad presentiment of what may come. 
Could I but free him from the influence 
Of Tigellinus, and Senecio. 
I like them little — I distrust them more. 
They whip his vices onward. Well, ah, well ! 
I for the best must hope, and fear the worst. 



l6o NERO. [Act IV. 



Scene II. — Room in the house of Pis o. 






Conspirators — Subrius Flavus, Fenius Rufus, Lu- 
can, Plaut. Lateranus, Sc.evinus, Piso, Nat- 

ALIS. 

Piso. We've had enough of this accursed house. 
Ye gods, how Rome hath suffered 'neath its rule ! 
Now worst of all, — worse than Caligula, 
Far worse than Claudius, — the learned fool, 
Nero, remains ; — foul with debauch and crime ; 
Insatiate of blood ; his thirst unquenched 
By murder of his friends, — his brother, wife, 
His mother, — he would spill the blood of all. 
No man is safe in Rome while Nero lives ! 
'Tis time to shake this incubus away ; 
And ours must be the hands to do this deed. 
Are we agreed on this ? If any here 
Shrink from the task, let him speak boldly out. 
Speak, Flavus, Lateranus, Lucan, say ! 
Rufus, Scsevinus ! are we all agreed ? 



Scene II. ] NERO. l6l 

All. Ay, we are all agreed ! 

Piso. Unsheathe your swords, 

Lift high your hands ! — Now may the immortal gods 
Blast him with ruin who shall break this oath — 
" Fidelity to each, — to Nero death ! " 

All. We swear ! 

Piso. How shall we compass, then, his death ? 
He is so guarded, 'tis no easy thing. 

Flav. No ; yet at times the whim will seize on him 
To ramble through his galleries at night 
All unattended ; — there, when off his guard, 
We might attack him, and make way with him. 

Sccev. 'Twere difficult, and dangerous as well. 
Already Proculus suspects a plot, 
From idle words that Epicharis dropped, 
And has infected Caesar with his fear. 
Besides, time presses, and we must not wait. 

Flav. Suppose, then, while he roams the streets by 
night 
Without his guard, and in some base disguise, 
Drunken with revel, we should set on him. 

Lat. It will not do ; we must not wait for chance, 
L 



1 62 NERO. [Act IV. 

But make it for ourselves, — fix time and place, 
And strike together. Lucan, what say you ? 

Luc. I say the bolder is the safer way : 
Let us go to him, as to offer him 
A prayer for something, and then fall on him. 
You, Lateranus — Consul now elect — 
Bear a petition to him. Kneeling there 
Before him to present it, grasp his knees, 
And pull him to the ground, — then one of us 
Will stab him ere he rise ! 

Lat. 5 I am agreed 

For my plart. Who of you will strike the blow ? 

Sccev. I will ! If so seem good to all of you, 
Let me be first to strike the tyrant down. 
Here is the dagger that shall make us free ! 
'Tis from the Temple of Ferentum, built 
To Fortune, — and 'tis pledged to some great deed. 

Piso. What say you, friends ? 

Flav. So be it ! 

Nat. So say I ! 

Piso. So let it be then, — we are all agreed. 
Scasvinus ! You and Lateranus fix 






Scene II.] NERO. 163 

The hour between you, as it suits you best 
All will be near you, to make sure of him, 
In case the first blow do not end his life. 

Lat. I fix the day now. Let it be the seventh, 
At the sixth hour. It is the sacred day 
To Oxus dedicate. There at the games, 
When he comes forth, as he is sure to do 
(For he is never absent when blood runs), 
With my petition I'll present myself, 
And pluck him down. Will you be ready then ? 

Sccev. I will be ready. 

Lat. Piso, as for you, 

In Ceres' Temple you will wait for us. 
When the deed's done, Fenius shall come for you. 
Together, then, we'll bear you to the camp, 
And there proclaim you Caesar ! 

Piso. Nay, good friends, 

I am not worthy ; seek some better man. 
I do not pull this monster from the throne 
To sit on it myself. 

Lat. Nay, shrink not back : 

Hold you to us, as we shall hold to you. 



164 NERO. [Act IV. 

All is agreed, friends, is it not ? 

All. It is ! 

Lat. May the gods help us on the appointed day ! 
Silence and secrecy till then. Our lives 
Hang on a word. Now, let us separate. 



Scene III. — Imperial Palace. 
Nero, Popp^ea, and Tigellinus. 

Nero. Now, my Poppasa, are you satisfied ? 

Pop. Ay, my good Cassar. 

Nero. Is there anything 

Which now you need ? 

Pop. Nothing; you now are mine, 

I yours — what is there left to ask for more ? 
Life is before us now to act and speak 
As the whim prompts — free, free of every one. 

Nero. We must build up these galleries anew, 



Scene III.] NERO. 1 65 

The fire hath spoiled these marbles utterly. 

Gods ! what a sight it was when the fierce flames 

Licked the black night, and all Rome was ablaze — 

A sight to make one's spirits leap for joy ! 

Here night on night I stood and gazed at it, 

Never was weary : now and then a crash 

Shook all the palace ; then a bursting mass 

Of sparks and smoke and ashes flew aloft 

And rained again to earth ; then darting tongues 

Of living flame ran swift along the roofs, 

Insatiate to destroy, with a fierce rage. 

They say, I hear, I set our Rome afire ; 

That's a mean lie. They tell such lies of me ! 

Pop. Where is the poem that you wrote on it ? 

Nero. I'll read it to you, love, this very day, 
And sing it too. 

Tigel. May I not also hear ? 

Nero. Ay, if you will. 

Tigel. I hear that Seneca 

Did not applaud it — thought it weak and tame. 

Nero. Did he? He praised it to my face. 



l66 NERO. [Act IV. 

Tigel. Of course, 

He dared not otherwise; behind your back 
He laughed at it. 

Nero. The villain ! Did he dare ? 

Tigel. Oh Caesar, he's your rival ! — says he writes 
Your verses for you — all your eloquence 
Flows from his stylus — without him, indeed, 
The world would laugh to see what you produce. 

Nero. Ah ! says he thus ? 

Tigel. And what he cannot do, 

As driving, singing, playing on the harp, 
Which all the world can see you do yourself, 
He flouts at, mocks at. Let us set him up 
With that dull, ugly, leering face of his, 
And bid him sing, and drive a chariot-race, — 
Ye gods ! how men would laugh to look at him ! 

Nero. Ah ! so he mocks and flouts me. By the 
gods, 
I'll make him change his tune ! 

Pop. Oh, Csesar dear, 

Think not of him — let him not vex your mind. 



Scene III.] NERO. 1 67 

Pray, Tigellinus, speak no more of this ; 
He can harm no one, Caesar least of all. 
I'll not believe he mocks and flouts at him — 
I'll not believe it. 

Tigel. Madam, it is true, 

I had not said it else. 

Pop. Cease, cease, I pray ; 

Fret not our Caesar with this idle talk — 
; Tis all base scandal out of envy bred. 

Tigel. Madam, I pray you pardon, 'tis not I 
Invent this scandal ; 'tis, alas, too true ; 
All know it ; 'tis the common talk of Rome. 

Pop. Well, say no more. Come, Caesar, shall we 
stroll 
Along the terrace ? See, the air is soft — 
Come. 

Nero. Ah ! so, then, he dares to laugh at me ? 

Pop. Think no more of it — 'tis an idle tale ; 
Ay, I am sure he never speaks of you 
But with affection, and with pride as well. 
'Tis the large gifts you have bestowed on him 



1 68 NERO. [Act IV. 

That the world envies, and would pull him down. 
Come, Nero. [Goes to the balcony. 

Nero {stays behind). Tigellinus, is this true? 

Tigel. Ay, Caesar ; and it rouses the just ire 
Of all your friends, mine most of all, I think, 
Till, on my soul, I cannot, as I ought, 
Restrain my words ; I must speak out to you. 

Nero. Thanks, Tigellinus, thanks; you are my friend, 
My best friend : this is common talk, you say ? 

Tigel. Ay, Caesar, — and not this alone 

Nero. What ! more ? 

Tigel. Ay, they all say he dares to vie with you 
In splendour. Gardens, villas, like to his, 
Are scarcely fit for a philosopher 
Who preaches up the charms of poverty. 
What foul hypocrisy ! His avarice 
Would swallow Rome up and be hungry still. 

Nero. He has but what I gave him, — that is all. 

Tigel. All, and enough, and far more than enough ; 
And yet, so boundless is his greed of gain, 
So boundless his ambition, that indeed 



Scene III.] NERO. 1 69 

I fear me Caesar, are you sure of him ? 

Nero. How? Sure of him? You do not think he'd 
dare 
Conspire against me ? 

Tigel. Nay, I only asked. 

There are dark whispers : with such wealth as his, 
Should he conspire, he would be dangerous. 
Send him away, my Caesar. 

■Nero. By the gods ! 

It shall be done. 

Tigel. Do not too long delay. 

Pop. {coming back — to Tigellinus). I thank you, sir. 
I see by Caesar's face, 
You have obeyed my wishes. My best thanks 

Tigel. Madam, I 

Pop. Nero, is't not now the hour 

You have appointed for the chariot-race ? 

Nero. Ay, true — I had forgotten • 'tis the hour, 
And I'm not ready. Bid them bring my robes. 
Those Christians that so hate the human race, — 
That damnable and superstitious sect, — 



170 NERO. [Act IV. 

Are to be hunted down this afternoon. 
I would not lose the sight. Be quick, be quick ! — 
They're to be clad in skins and chased by dogs. 
Gods ! it will be such sport to hear them yell 
When the dogs tear them ! 

Pop. Horrible, I say. 

Oh do not do it, Nero. Stay with me. 
I thought 'twas but a chariot-race, not that. 

Nero. Peace, peace, Poppaea ! Tigellinus, quick, 
Bring me my robes, and bring me, too, my purse ; 
And see that wide largess is flung about 
Among the crowd, — I hear they grumble still. 
What would they more ? Have I not ordered food 
To be dispensed ? — have I not sheltered them 
In my own gardens ? — opened for them, too, 
The buildings of Agrippa ? — built them sheds ? 
What would they more ? 'Tis not my fault fire burns. 
Now to distract them here's a spectacle 
Of hunted Christians. Fling them wide largess, 
And tell them 'twas these Christians burnt their homes. 
Come, my Poppaea, will you go with us ? 



Scene III.] NERO. 171 

Pop. No, no ! I cannot see such sights as these. 

Nero. Why, you who love the Jews should like to see 
These Christians who despise them hunted down. 

Pop. I would see no one hunted down to death. 
I've seen enough. 

Nero. If you were Acte, now, 

It would not seem so strange. Acte, you know, 
Pretends to like these Christians, — has, perchance, 
Some lover in their sect ; but what moves you 
To pity them ? 

Pop. Oh Nero, do not go ! 

Nero . But I will go. What has come over you ? 
You were not wont to be so weak as this. 

Pop. Yes, I am weak, I know. I am not now 
As once I was ; but full of wild, strange fears. 

Nero. You. are not well. Go to your couch and rest, 
And here's a kiss. Farewell ! 

Pop. Farewell, my lord ! 

[Exeunt. 
All I have gained I played for — all is mine; 
And yet how stale, and dull, and flat it is ! 



172 NERO. [Act IV. 

Hoping is fire, possessing — a charred coal. 

Yes I am Empress, — who knows for how long? 

The wheel of Fortune turns, and Nemesis 

Has her dark eyes upon me. Death may spring 

From any corner, and with but a straw 

Break the sharp charm of life ; and I that now 

Breathe, move, smile, sigh, be in an instant's space 

A clod — a ruined mass of senseless clay — 

And all these passions, all these fears, hopes, joys, 

The light of life's weak candle, — all blown out. 

Burrhus is dead, and Agrippina sleeps 

In her cold tomb ; Octavia, too, is gone ; 

They cannot harm us further, nor we them — 

Ah ! is it so ? Are we beyond their reach ? 

Will they not lend their hand to turn the wheel 

Upon whose upper summit I now stand ? 

Let me not think of it. Nero infects 

My spirit with his superstitious fears. 

Hark, what a shout ! They chase the Christians now ! . 

Great heavens ! what horrors on this earth are done ! 



Scene IV.] NERO. 173 

Scene IV. — House of Piso. 
Piso and Lateranus. 

Piso. Things go from bad to worse. Why do we 
wait ? 

Lat. 'Tis not yet time. The guards are doubled all ; 
Nero suspects : are we quite sure of all ? 

Piso. Doubt you of any ? 

Lat. Not directly. Yet, 

I would so many were not in the plot. 
One chance word dropped might cost us all our heads. 

Piso. Do not postpone, then, for the time is ripe. 
The populace forgive not nor forget 
The burning of their homes, done as they say 
Under his orders. Heavens ! what a scene 
Those frightful days beheld ! the shrieks, the cries, 
The wild confusing sounds of old and young, 
Mingled with crashing falls of smoking beams, 
The thunder of great walls that now and then 
Buried them in their ruins ; everywhere 



174 NERO. [Act IV. 

Dead, mangled bodies ; often at their side 

Friends, parents, children in their fierce despair 

Invoking death, refusing to be torn 

From the dead bodies ; groups and flying crowds 

Rushing off madly, and unknowing where — 

Stampeding in a mass like frighted steeds, 

To rush into the very jaws of death — 

Trampling each other down ; and, worse than this, 

Horrible scenes of rapine, murder, crime, — 

And through it all alone he seemed to joy 

In the dread ruin. 

Lat Ay, the wretch, he did ! 

Then all these splendid works of ancient art, 
Those noble monuments of our old Rome, 
Those precious things that perished utterly, 
And nothing ever can make good to us ! 

Piso. 'Tis not to be endured — that he should live. 
Oh, our poor Rome ! we cannot give you back 
What he has ruined ; but at least our hands 
Can free you from his mad and reckless rule. 
We all abet his crimes who hesitate. 
Look, here is Seneca. 






Scene IV.] NERO. 175 

Enter Seneca. 

Health to you, Seneca ! 
Where go you now ? 

Sen. To Caesar. 

Lat. Go not there ! 

Keep out of sight ! Why do you place your head 
Within the tiger's jaws ? Do you not know 
The thirsty monster you can trust no more ? 

Sen. I trust him not, and yet I am compelled 
To stay in Rome. He will not give me leave 
To quit the city. 

Piso. Then, at least, take heed ; 

Mind what you eat and drink. No friends of yours 
Are Caesar's counsellors, since Burrhus died. 

Sen. Thanks for your counsel ; I'll take heed of it. 

[Exit Seneca. 

Piso. Look at that man : his life hangs on a thread. 
Caesar is weary of him — means his death — 
But will not let him go beyond his reach 
Further than does a cat the helpless mouse 
She plays with ere she kills. Poor Seneca ! 



7 6 



NERO. 



[Act IV. 



Scene V. — Imperial Palace. 



Nero and Tigellinus. 



Nero. By heavens, such sport ! How they did run 
and shriek, 
Those Christians ! On my soul, I never laughed 
More heartily ! A pestilential set, 
Are they not, Tigellinus ? 

Tigel. Ay, my lord. 

Nero. What is it they believe in ? 

Tigel. They adore, 

So I am told, an ass's head, and work 
With foul and magic arts. 

Nero. What ! magic arts ? 

Tigel. Ay, as I hear. 

Nero. Nay, then, they all shall die. 

I'll root them out. Gods ! they might loose on me 
Mormolyceia, and Empusae dire, 
And evil Lamiae, and all the brood 



Scene V.] NERO. 1/7 

Sent by black Hecate forth to suck men's blood ! 
I must seek out some potent talisman 
Against their machinations. Know you not 
Some one more potent in their magic arts 
To counteract them in their evil work ? 

Tigel. Nay,— if you seek for potent talismans, 
Know, Apollonius of Tyana 
Is now in Rome — he whom some. deem a god, — 
He with his power would set at nought their arts. 

Nero. Has he such- magic power ? 

Tigel. He has indeed. 

Under your edict, he was lately brought 
Before the Consul and myself. In sooth, 
Such was his power, we deemed it for the best 
To set him free at once. 

Nero. Go to him then ; 

Bid him prepare for me such talismans 
As will enable me to set at nought 
All these foul practices. Go ! go at once ! 

Tigel. I shall obey you. 

[Prepares to go out — meets Seneca — returns. 
M 



i;8 



NERO. 



[Act IV. 



Seneca is here, 
And craves admittance, Caesar. 



Enter Seneca. 

Nero. Let him in. 

Health to you, Seneca ! 

Sen. Great Caesar, health ! 

Nero. What .would my Seneca ? 

Sen. Caesar, I come 

Once more to crave a boon. I am not well ; 
Age comes upon me, and infirmities 
So weigh me down, that I am nothing worth 
For public service. While my hand could help, 
My counsel aid, all that I was was yours, 
And ever will be ; but I now am old, 
And you have abler counsellors, though not 
More faithful, at your side. 

Nero. No, Seneca, 

Not abler — not more faithful. Still I need 
Your aid and counsel. No, I cannot spare 
My old preceptor, my old friend. Besides, 
The world would say I was not generous — 



Scene V.] NERO. 1 79 

I drove my oldest and best friend away. 

Sen. Thanks, Caesar, for these kind and gracious 
words : 
You have been ever largely liberal, 
Far, far beyond my best deserts, to me ; 
You have enriched me so, that envious men 
Bewray my name ; the honours you have heaped 
Upon me, all unworthy, but excite 
My enemies' cupidity. They seek 
My downfall. Ah, I pray you let me go ! 
Take back this wealth that you have showered on me, 
My benefactor, — take it all again ; — 
A poor old man like me requires it not. 
Take it, and spend it, Caesar, on yourself. 

Nero. No, no, good Seneca ! what once is given 
Cannot be taken back. Enjoy it, then ; 
None more deserves it than my oldest friend. 
Stay with me; I am young — I need you yet. 
One of the brightest jewels in my crown 
Were gone, should you depart. Ask anything 
That I can grant, but do not ask me this. 
What ! leave me ! Unto whom, then, could I turn 



180 NERO. [Act IV. 

For wise advice, for pure philosophy, 
For the fair art of poetry, but you ? 

Sen. Ah, Caesar, I have nothing more to say. 
Your friendly words prevail ; — old as I am, 
Weary, unfit for duties at a court — 
All that I am, poor as it is, is yours. 

Nero. Thanks, my best Seneca ! how shall I prove 
My gratitude ? Say, have you any wish 
That lieth in my power to gratify ? 
Speak, it is yours ! 

Sen. Caesar, your liberal hand 

Hath with o'erflowing measure brimmed my cup ; 
Your kindness ever ran before each wish, 
To greet and crown it ere it grew to shape. 
Nothing is left to ask for, — I but ask 
To kiss the hand that hath been, bountiful 
With never-failing favour. 

Nero. Not my hand, — 

Embrace me, Seneca ! {Embraces him.) And so farewell ! 

[Exit Seneca. 

Nero. Ah ! so you thought to slip away from me ! 
No, Seneca, — I am not quite so blind. 



Scene VI. ] NERO. l8l 

These thin pretences and hypocrisies 

Will not avail you. Take heed how you move — 

Look to your steps, — the path is perilous. 

[Exit. 



Scene VI. 
Enter Milichus and Tigellinus. 

Mil. Can I not see the Emperor himself? 

Tigel. If you have aught to say, say it to me. 

Mil. 'Tis something that concerns him more than 
you : 
Nor am I sure that I can trust you. 

Tigel. Slave ! 

Mil. I am no slave. 

Tigel. Who are you? 

Mil. Milichus, 

A freedman of Scsevinus. 



182 



NERO. 



[Act IV. 



Tigel 



Well, what else ? 



Mil. I have a secret that concerns the ears 
Of Caesar. If to him I may not speak, 
So be it. I will bear my secret hence 
To those who will reward my silence more 
Than you my utterance. 

Tigel. Speak it out at once, 

Or I will bid the torture give you speech. 

Mil. Kill me, you kill my secret with me too. 

Tigel. Fool ! I will promise in our Caesar's name, 
And in my name as well, if what you speak 
Be worth the hearing, — ample, large reward. 

Mil. No, I must say it unto Caesar's self. 



Nero enters. 

Nero. What noise is this ? 

Tigel. Speak, Milichus ! you see 

Caesar before you. 

Mil. Mighty Caesar, health ! 

I craved an audience in your ear to breathe 
A secret that involves your life or death. 

Nero. What ! 



Scene VI. ] NERO. 1 83 

Mil. Caesar, a conspiracy's afoot, 

Of which by chance I am upon the trail : 
And I have hastened here to tell it you. 

Nero. Speak, speak ! at once, at once ! 

Mil. Caesar, I will. 

I am a freedman of Scaevinus' house ; 
And there of late have many meetings been, 
Where casual words were dropped that woke in me 
Doubts and suspicions, — and but yesterday 
Scaevinus' conduct clenched them in my mind. 
First, then, he made his will — called in his slaves — 
Made presents to them — manumitted some ; — 
Then gave to me this dagger, bidding me 
To sharpen it ; then ordered ligaments 
To bind up wounds ; then with his friends sat down 
Unto a costly banquet. Before this, 
With Piso and Natalis, he had held 
Long conferences — secret and alone — 
Of which I, listening, had caught the drift, — 
It was to murder Caesar ! This I deemed 
My duty to acquaint you with at once : 
So here at risk of life I am. 



184 NERO. [Act IV. 

Nero. Great God ! 

My life ! Who were they ? Tell me — tell me all ! 

Mil. Piso was there, and Lateranus too, 
Natalis, — these are all I surely know ; 
Others there are whom shrewdly I suspect, 
As Seneca. 

Nero. Ha ! Seneca? 

Mil. And Lucan. 

Nero. Ha ! 

Mil. I but suspect these. 

Tigel. Nay, I'm sure of it. 

Nero. Speak, tell me more. 

Mil. Caesar, 'tis all I know. 

Nero. Go back and watch ; bring every word to me ; 
Keep eyes and ears wide open — do not lose 
A wink, a breath. By heavens ! I'll have their heads 
Before a day be passed. 

Tigel. Nay, Caesar; wait 

Till we unravel all the secret plot — 
Know all the names, or some will slip away — 
Some we shall lose. 

Nero. Ay, we must crush them all. 



Scene VI.] NERO. 185 

Oh, quick, my Tigellinus — pray, be quick ! 

Stamp it all out at once : wait not a day. 

Who knows what hour or place they may have fixed ? 

Or how, or when, or where they mean to strike? 

Double the guards ; — let no one enter here. 

(To Milichus.) You, hence at once, — go back, — keep 

constant watch, 
And never fear but I will pay you well. 
Ay, you shall banquet in your master's halls, 
And own them too. The curses of the gods 
Rest on them all ! Away ! away at once ! 

\_Exit Milichus. 
Now, Tigellinus, come with me, away. 

Enter Popp^a. 

Pop. What ails my lord? what cloud is on your brow? 
Nero. Hinder me not ; I've business of weight. 
Pop. What is it, Nero ? 
Nero. I've no time to talk. 

Another time. Come, Tigellinus, come. 

Pop. Have you bad tidings ? What has happened ? 
Nay, 



1 86 NERO. [Act IV. 

Leave me not thus. 

Nero. Peace ! let me go, I say ! 

[Shakes her off, and exit. 

Pop. "What can have gone amiss ? What has he heard 
That he is thus disturbed ? Oh, who can tell ? 
Perhaps 'tis nothing but an ugly mood ; 
For who can count upon these passions quick, 
Or track him through the tangles of his wild 
And rambling humours ? He is changed of late — 
Gets wilder, fiercer, stormier every day. 
Oh, my ambition ! I have plucked the fruit 
I coveted, and in my mouth 'tis sour. 
Yes, I have bartered peace away — for what ? 
A dangerous throne, a life of constant fear ! 
Why was I not content with what I had — 
What am I but a slave — a fearful slave — 
Despite the barren title that I own ? 
Subject to every hour's caprice, and now 
Doomed to be played with, and now thrown away. 
Better the poor who live in calm content, 
Goaded by no ambitions after power. 
What though they toil all day beneath the sun ? 



Scene VIL] NERO. 1 87 

Sleep comes at night, and opens worlds to them 
Grander and happier than all I own. 
I toss and tumble, and within my brain, 
My thoughts turmoiling only bring me pain. 
All things I have to lose, nothing to gain. 



Scene VII. — House of Piso. 
Piso, Rufus, Flavus. 

Ruf. We are betrayed. Natalis has been seized. 
And under torture hath confessed the plot. 
Lucan has had the baseness to confess. 
Nothing remains but some bold sudden step. 
Rouse, Piso ! think and act ere 'tis too late. 

Piso. Tis now too late. 

Flav. It never is too late. 

Still we are free. 

Piso. No, I abandon all — 

I wait my death. 



38 NERO. [Act IV. 

Flav. But I will not wait mine. 

My name is yet unmentioned, so is yours, 
Rufus ; stand by me, then, and strike with me ! 

Ruf Count on me, if 'tis ever possible. 

Flav. Scsevinus and Natalis will to-day 
Be brought before us. We shall sit beside 
The tyrant on his seat, to judge them both. 
If all goes right, even then 'tis not too late 
To plunge a dagger in his heart, and free 
Rome from its terror, and our friends from death ! 

Ruf. They say Natalis has named Seneca. 

Flav. He yielded in his fear to their first threats, 
While Epicharis, though a slave, held out, 
Putting to shame our senators and knights. 
Ay, though they tortured her with torments dire, 
With all her broken limbs too weak to stand, 
She only smiled, and never spoke a word ; 
And when the insatiate Nero, foiled at this, 
Ordered her slaves to bear her to her home, 
And heal her wounds, that she again might feel 
New tortures, and be forced to speak at last, 
She, in her litter, knotted round her neck 



Scene VII.] NERO. L89 

Her girdle, and evaded him by death. 

Piso. Brave creature ! 

Flav. Were we all as firm of heart, 

Of such undaunted courage, even now 
All might be saved. 

Piso. No, no ! 'tis all too late. 

Flav. Then, if you will not act, go hide yourself. 
Leave it to me and Rufus. If there come 
A chance to us we will not fail to act. 

Piso. 'Tis useless. Nay, I'll not deceive myself — 
There is no hope for any one of us. 

Ruf. Withdraw, then, to your villa — lose no time. 
While life remains I'll not abandon hope. 

Flav. 'Tis time we go. 

Piso. Farewell ! a long farewell ! 

We shall not meet again. 

Ruf. Give it not up. 

No, Piso, no ! I will not say farewell — 
I hope still. Yet, if all goes wrong at last, 
Farewell, my noble friend — a last farewell ! 

Flav. Oh, curse this tyrant ! — must it then be thus ? 

Piso. It must; there is no chance, no remedy. 



190 NERO. [Act IV. 

Flav. Do not believe it ; but, if so, farewell ! 
Come, Rufus, we are late. Again, farewell ! 

\Exeunt. 






Scene VIII. — Capitol— Judgment-seat. 

Above. — Nero, Rufus, Flavus, Tigellinus, and 

Senators, seated. 
Below. — Soevinus, Natalis, Prisoners in chains, 
Milichus. 
Guards, Attendants, Soldiers. 

Nero. Confess, Scsevinus. 

Sccbv. I am innocent. 

Nero. Confess, I say, or we will tear your limbs 
With tortures that shall make you find a tongue. 

Sccbv. I've nothing, Caesar, to confess. 

Ruf. Bring forth 

The freedman Milichus. 

[Milichus is brought forward. 



Scene VIIL] NERO. 191 

Speak, sir, and say, 
Is this man guilty of the crime alleged 
Against our Caesar's life? 

Mil. Caesar, he is. 

Ruf. Is there, then, nothing you retract ? Pause ! 
think ! 
Remember, this man's life hangs on your words. 

Mil. I retract nothing — all I said is true. 

Flav. What answer you, Scaevinus ? 

Sccev. I deny 

All that he says, — it is a foul, base lie. 

Ruf. Still, he affirms it. 

Sccev. Shall that villain's word 

Be placed against a senator's and knight's ? 
He was my slave ; I freed him, — heaped on him 
My benefits, and, angered by some word, 
Or greedy of reward — suborned, perhaps, 
By some one of my enemies — devoured 
With envy of the honours and the wealth 
By Caesar heaped upon me, now turns round, 
And by a foul lie seeks my death. I say 
Tis all a lie. 



192 NERO. [Act IV. 

Tigel. It is the simple truth. 

You know it, so confess — tell us the names 
Of all who joined you in this murderous plot. 
Sccev. I've no accomplices. 
Tigel. Natalis, speak ! 

Is not this true? 

Nat. 'Tis all a cruel lie. 

Ruf. What ! do you both deny it ? 
Nero. Then bring in 

The tortures. Let us hear what then they'll say. 

[Tortures brought in. 
Clasp the boot there on both Scaevinus' legs. 
Stand ready there to drive the wedges down. 

Tigel. Confess, Scaevinus, or the torture now 
Will force your lips to utter all you know. 
Flew. Shall I? 

[Makes a sign to Rufus, to inquire 
if he shall stab Nero. Rufus 
hesitates ; Flavus lays his hand 
o?i his sword, as if to draw it, 
when Rufus grasps his arm and 
says — 



Scene VIII. ] NERO. 193 

Ruf Not yet. {Aloud.) What says Scse- 

vinus now ? 

Sccev. Nothing. 

Ruf. Speak out. 

Sccev. Take my life if you will, 

Though I am innocent ; but others' lives 
I will not sacrifice to save my own. 

Ruf. If there were others, name them; who were 
they? 

Sccev. I know no more about the plot than you. 
If you would win our Caesar's gratitude, 
Tell him yourself. You know as much as I. 
Tell him yourself. 

Nero {starts up). He hath confessed ! What, guards ! 
Seize Fenius Rums, — seize the prefect here ! 
What, villain ! 

[Rufus is seized and bound. 

Ruf Hear me, Csesar ! 

Nero. Off with him, 

And with Scsevinus, and Natalis too ! 
All to the torture. No, stop — ere we go 
We will know more. Strike, executioners, 

N 



194 NERO. [Act IV. 

With all your strength, and make Scaevinus speak ! 

[Executioners prepare to strike. 

Sccev. Mercy, great Caesar ! 

Nero. Tell me all their names. 

Sccev. I cannot. 

Nero. Speak ! 

Sccev. Oh, cruel, cursed fate ! 

Must I, then, name them ? 

Nero. Strike !— I will not wait. 

Sccev. Piso was one. 

Nero. A-h, ah ! 

Sccev. Lucan was one. 

Nero. And Seneca ? 

Sccev. » Ay, Caesar. 

Nero. By the gods, 

I thought so ! More ! I will have all their names. 

Sccev. I have told all. 

Nero. Off, then, — away with them 

Dig out this nest of serpents, keep them close — 
Kill none of them till you have caught them all. 
Away ! 



Scene VIII. ] NERO. 195 

Flav. (passing Sclevinus). Base coward ! miserable 
' wretch ! 

Nero. So, that is done. I thank you all. Farewell ! 
Stay, Tigellinus. Health to all ; farewell ! 

[Exeunt all but Nero and Tigellinus. 
Send quick to Seneca. Bid him at once 
Answer this charge; we'll see what he can say. 
If he explain it not as clear as day, 
He dies. 

Tigel. I shall obey you instantly. 

[Goes out. Nero calls him back. 

Nero. Ho ! Tigellinus. 

Tigel. Caesar, did you call ? 

Nero. Why, what a fool, an arrant fool I am ! 
Why did I not take warning? Babilus — 
Remember Babilus and what he said. 

Tigel. What ! the astrologer ? 

Nero. The same. Ah, yes ! 

This was the meaning of that hairy star 
That has so long pursued me in the skies, 
Threatening the heads of kings. Ah, Babilus, 



196 NERO. [Act IV. 

Good was thy counsel — to avert at once 
The fatal presage by the death of all. 
"lis not too late yet. Drive them all from Rome. 
Starve, poison them — and all their children too. 
Strangle them while they eat, or while they sleep ; 
Kill them — no matter how — kill them at once — 
So expiation shall be made for me, — 
But kill enough. 

Tigel. I pray you, Caesar, pause — 

Be moderate, be generous. 

Nero. Fear you not ; 

They cannot kill me yet. See, still I keep 
My potent talisman — this figure here, 
This tells me all the secrets yet to come. 
Besides, the Oracle at Delphi said, 
" Fear thou no year except the seventy-third." 
A long time yet to come. 

Tigel. Caesar, it is. 

Be patient, then — be moderate. 

Nero. I say, 

Sweep them away ! sweep all of them away ! 



Scene IX.] NERO. 1 97 

Scene IX. — Villa, four miles from city. 
Seneca, Paulina, and two Friends at supper. 

Paul. Are you not weary, Lucius, with your ride ? 

Sen. No, 'twas a charming day ; the cool breeze blew 
Across the water, dotted here and there 
With many a sail : the ever-varying scene 
Made the day's journey short. 

Paul. I feared 'twould prove 

Too long a journey, Lucius, for your strength. 

Sen. No, I am well. 'Tis pleasant to be here 
At home with those I love. What news from Rome ? 

Friend. Painful. 

Sen. Poor Lucan ! Speak no more of that. 

Well, he died bravely at the last — that's all 
The comfort left us. How's Attilia, 
His mother ? 

Paul. Ah ! how can she be ? To her 

The joy of life is gone, and its last miles 
Measure a heavy, lingering road to death. 



198 NERO. [Act IV. 

Sen. Have you heard aught of Flavus ? 

Paul. He is dead ! 

Sen. Dead? Flavus dead? 

Paid. Ay, he was in the plot, 

And, like the rest, he was betrayed, denounced. 

Sen. Poor Flavus ! And how died he ? 

Paul. Like a man ! 

Denying not he purposed Caesar's death, 
But glorying in the charge, and calling on 
The gods to punish Nero. " Hear," he cried — 
"While you were decent, and deserved esteem, 
You owned no surer friend ; now, foul with crime, 
Jeer of the world, pest of the world, who lives 
Who does not scorn you — hate you — wish your 

death ? 
Comedian, jockey, murderer, parricide ! " 

Sen. Poor Flavus, my poor friend ! So, one by 
one, 
Life's props are lopped away. 

Hark ! what is that ? 
I hear the trampling of approaching feet. 









Scene IX.] NERO. 1 99 

Enter Servant. 

Serv. Granius, the tribune of the guards, is here. 
Sen. Admit him. 

Enter Tribune. 

Health and welcome to you, friend. 
Whence do you come ? 

Gran. From Caesar ; forced to bring 

A message that can claim no welcome here. 

Sen. Speak, then. 

Gran. He bids me say you are accused 

As an accomplice in the murderous plot 
Aimed at his life, and he demands of you 
How you can purge your conscience of this crime. 

Sen. There is no faintest shadow of the truth 
In this denouncement ; I am innocent. 
Ever have I for Csesar toiled, and sought 
In all his honour, health, and happiness. 

Gran. Yet it is said that you yourself declared 
Your safety hung on Piso's — who was head 
Of this conspiracy — and so 'twere best 



200 



NERO. 



[Act IV. 



He held aloof from you. 

Sen. It is not true. 

I have avoided Piso in no way. 
If I have sought seclusion, the sole cause 
Was failing health. Caesar himself may judge — 
Who knows I am not prone to flattery — 
If one whose rank is consular would think 
More of my humble safety than his own. 

Gran. I will acquaint him with the words you say. 

Sen. Say I am innocent — that all my life 
Affirms it — every act, and thought, and word. 
With such weak, empty, idle talk as this — 
Which, were it true, means nothing, but in fact 
Is false completely — would he overweigh 
The service of my life ? I'll not believe it. 

Gran. Farewell ! I would I felt as safe as you 
That Caesar with this answer is content ! 

[Exit Granius. 

Paul. Oh, Lucius ! what can this mean? Do you 
think 
There's danger in it ? 



Scene IX.] NERO. 201 

Sen. Ay, dear wife, I do. 

Paul. Great heavens ! And has it come to this at 
last? 

Sen. I fear it has : but weep not, pray be calm. 
Who knows? I may take counsel of my fears 
More than my judgment. 

ist Friend. Oh, my Seneca, 

Be sure you do ! There's nothing here to rouse 
Your fears. He hath but given you the chance 
To speak, and to refute this foolish lie. 

2d Friend. Besides, had Caesar meant to menace 
you, 
He had not sent in such a form as this. 

Paul. You think so, do you not ? 

Both. Surely we do. 

Sen. Well, let us hope it. And yet, knowing him, 
I fear him. Time alone will prove who's right. 

i st Friend. Keep a good heart ; be sure 'twill end in 
nought. 
And so, farewell ! We leave you to repose. 



202 NERO. [Act IV. 

Scene X. — Imperial Palace. 

TlGELLINUS, POPP^EA, NERO. 

Nero. Who of them now remain ? 

Tigel. None, Caesar, none, 

Save Seneca ; the rest of them have paid 
The forfeit of their life. 

Nero. And Seneca — 

What does he say ? If he deny it all, 
The evidence is slight — how shall I act ? 

Pop. Oh, pardon him — that wretched, poor old man 
Leave him his life ; 'tis but a few short years 
That death can be delayed. He was your friend, 
Your teacher — he has never done you wrong. 
His hand was never in this plot. 

Nero. Ah, yes ! 

He was my friend so long. I would not seem 
To act unjustly, lest the world cry out. 
We have had blood enough. He had no part 
In this conspiracy. 






I 



Scene X.] NERO. 203 

Tigel. Believe it not ! 

No, he is shrewd and sharp, and he has hid 
All proofs against him ; yet with fifty proofs 
I should not feel more sure than I am now. 

Nero. I do not think so. 

Pop. Caesar, let him live ! 

For my sake let him live ! 

Tigel. Ay, let him live 

To polish up your verses, laugh at you, 
And mock you for your singing. Rail at you, 
And say Well, well ! no matter what he says. 

Nero. What does he say ? 

Pop. Oh, nothing ! be assured — 

Nothing against you. Only evil tongues 
Breed out of harmless words a wicked sense 
They never had. 

Nero. He dares not laugh at me ! 

Tigel. Dares not ! — why, no ! not to your face, indeed. 

Pop. No, nor behind your back, nor anywhere. 
Nay, Tigellinus, spur not Caesar on 
To this sad act. Give his good impulse sway — 
Let his heart speak. You see he shrinks from it. 



204 NERO. [Act IV. 

No, Caesar, let him live ! Though this be true, 
What matters it ? Be great — be generous. 

Nero. Ay, let him live — I will not take his life. 
What matters it, in truth, what he may say ? 
Words are but air — words cannot kill. Enough ! 
Yes, he shall live, Poppaea. 

Pop. Now indeed 

I know my Caesar. Oh, my noble lord, 
I thank you from my very heart of hearts ! 

Tigel. Ay, let him live ; I wash my hands of all. 
I will not urge you more. 'Tis nought to me ! 

Pop. It cannot harm us ; there is blood enough 
Upon our hands. This poor old broken man 
Can never harm great Caesar. He has stamped 
The head of this conspiracy to death. 
The tail, if tail there be, will never sting. 

Tigel. Are you so sure ? Yes, Caesar well may scorn 
Such mockery as his ; but with his wealth 
The man is powerful — wealth is always power. 
And some, 'tis whispered, that are in this plot, 
Had they succeeded, meant to offer him 
The crown that Caesar wears. 



Scene X.] NERO. 205 

Nero. What ! Seneca ? 

Tigel. Ay, Caesar, so 'tis said. Flavus, his friend, — 
So it is whispered — I'll not say 'tis true — 
Still it is rumoured busily about, — 
Flavus, his friend 

Nero. Well— well? 

Tigel. Had the design 

To offer the imperial power to him, 
And that he knew it. 

Aero. Were I sure of this ! 

Tigel. Where there is smoke there's fire. Grant 'tis 
untrue, 
This story, in its details, still remains 
Some root to all these branches : out of nought 
Nought grows : and what remains of it is this, 
He must have known of this conspiracy, 
Been somehow bound to it, for all these men 
Were friends of his : they had not moved in it 
Without, at least, his sanction — if not more. 

Pop. 'Tis a foul lie, I'll answer with my life. 

Nero. My mind's made up. What ! think to wear 
this crown ! 



206 



NERO. 



[Act IV. 



What ! try to snatch it off my head — the fool ! 

Pop. Believe it not. You promised me his life. 
Tis all impossible. What ! he conspire, 
Whom you have lifted to such height, and heaped 
With Fortune's favours ! Oh, believe it not : 
That were indeed too base ingratitude. 
It is not true. 

Tigel. I fear 'tis but too true. 

Nero. Let him look to it : he shall die for it. 
Who's there ? 

Enter Granius. 

Gran. 'Tis I, great Caesar — Granius. 

Nero. You come from Seneca ? 

Gran. Ay, my good lord. 

Nero. What says he ? 

Gran. He asserts his innocence, 

Denies his speech with Piso, and declares 
That every thought, and word, and act of his 
All his long life has been to honour Caesar. 

Pop. Did I not say so ? Yes, he spoke the truth. 

Nero. Ah ! did he? When you gave him my command 



Scene XL] NERO. 207 

Did he not show alarm and own his fault ? 
Did he not say he should prepare to die ? 

Gran. Not so, great Caesar. He was calm and cool ; 
No gloom was on his face, and in his words 
No terror : he declared his innocence, 
And in your justice solely placed his trust. 

Nero. Well, he shall have my justice. Go to him, 
Bid him prepare to die — to die at once. 
Tell him he asks my justice — there it is ! 
See you he dies ; and now, begone at once. 

[Exit Granius. 
(To Popp^ea.) Nay, do not urge me, I will hear no more : 
Your prayers are vain, Poppaea. He shall die. 



Scene XI. — Villa of Seneca. 

Paulina, Seneca, Statius Ann^eus (physician), 
and Friends. 

Sen. Is not the morning close and thunderous ? 
Paul. There is oppression in the heavy air, 



208 NERO. [Act IV. 

As if a storm were threatening. Over Rome 
Hangs a dark mass of gloomy thunder-heads. 

Sen. 7 Tis that which makes the dull ache in my brain. 
Look out ! I think I hear the thud of hoofs 

Paul. A squad of horse 

Sen. That must be Granius. 

Paul. The Tribune ! Heaven protect us ! 

Sen. Ay, he brings 

Caesar's commands. Nay, do not tremble so ; 
Be calm. 

Paul. Oh, Lucius ! 

Sen. Be calm, dear wife. 

Enter Centurion. 

It is not Granius, then. Yet, welcome, sir, 
What news from Rome ? 

Cent. 'Tis Granius sends me here, 

To be the bearer of unwelcome news — 
News that indeed I have no heart to tell. 

Sen. Say it at once — you will not see me flinch. 

Cent. Caesar commands me — I can but obey, 
Hard though the sentence that he bids me bring. 



Scene XL] NERO. 209 

Sen. Nay, speak — I am prepared to hear it ; speak. 

Cent. My orders are to bid you die at once. 

Paul. Great God ! it is not true. It cannot be. 

Cent. Madam, forgive me ! I would give my hand 
I were not forced to say so ; but 'tis true. 
Caesar commands that Seneca shall die. 

Paul. Die ! Die ! Oh, Lucius ! 

Sen. • Peace, dear wife ! be calm ; 

I am prepared. Nay, I expected this. 
Give me the time but to revise my will, 
And I am ready. 

Cent. 'Tis not in my power 

To grant a moment. 

Sen. Well, so be it then. 

To die is easy, but to live is hard. 
Bear up, dear wife. Death comes to all at last. 
What matters it a few days more or less ? 
Caesar but offers me the key to rest, 
Opens the door, and motions me to join 
The noble army that has gone before. 

Paul. Then, we will go together, Lucius. 

Sen. Nay, live, Paulina ! 
O 



2IO NERO. [Act IV. 

Paul. What were life to me 

If you are taken ? No ! We both have lived 
Happy together ; so we both will die. 

Sen. Nay, live. Suppose that death had come to me 
Of its own impulse. You would stay behind, 
Despite your sorrow. You would live and say — 
" Ay, he is gone; still in my heart he lives." 
I have done nought to forfeit that dear love 
You ever gave me. Nothing have I done 
To justify this punishment. But why 
Call I it punishment ? It is the key 
To peace, to rest ; a sharp and sudden pain, 
Then all is over, and this weary heart 
Suffers no longer. Do not weep, good friends. 
You see that I am willing, ay, am glad 
Togo. 

Friends. 'Tis not for you we grieve : to us 
Is the great loss ; to you alone the gain. 

Sen. I would that time had been allotted me 
Your merit to reward as it deserves. 
You have been ever faithful, steadfast, kind ; 
And from these worldly goods I fain would leave 



Scene XL] NERO. 211 

Some mark of gratitude. This is denied. 
Take then my thanks and blessing. I bequeath 
To you the memory of my life and thoughts, 
And all I ever did of good and true. 
Forget my faults : they are the ugly dross 
That mixes with the gold in every life. 
Remember all the virtues, cling to them, 
And win a better fame, a happier fate. 

Friend. Oh, tyrant fell ! will nothing satiate 
Your bloody maw ? Oh, Rome, unhappy Rome ! 
Doth not death take enough away from us, 
But that his cruel and accursed hand 
Untimely to the grave should strike those down 
Who were our props and stays ? 

Statius. Oh, Seneca ! 

What horrible ingratitude is this, 
That he you strove to win to virtue's side 
Thus shamelessly should strike you down at last ! 

Sen. 'Twas unavailing. But who does not know 
The cruelty of Nero ? Could I hope 
Mercy from him, who did not stay his hand, 
Wife, mother, brother from his path to sweep ? 



212 NERO. [Act IV. 

No more of him ! Turn we to other thoughts. 

{To the Centurion.) Ay, grant me but a moment. Now 

farewell — 
Farewell, my dear and best-beloved wife, 
One last embrace ! Oh, be consoled by this, 
That I have ever loved you, ever shall, 
If the gods grant beyond this earthly life 
The memory of what has been ; for you 
Are part of me, as I am part of you, 
And if there anything remains of this 
Which now is Seneca, as I have faith 
Surely there shall, you will be with me still. 
Be brave, be calm. 

Paul. You see that I am calm. 

Death shall not tear you from me. No ; with you 
My life has been, and so my death shall be. 
I am decided. Argue not with me. 
No, Lucius ! We will die together ! 

Sen. Well, 

So be it j I will not oppose you more. 
Life has so many chances, wrongs, and pains, 
And death is safe. One last, one fond embrace ! 



Scene XL] NERO. 21 3 

Now I am ready, — give the dagger here. 

Paul. Give one to me as well. Now, Lucius. 

[They both open the veins in their arms. 
Sen. The blood runs slowly, and death shrinks 
from me. 
Oh my brave wife ! Nay, stay not here to see 
This poor life ebb away. Remove her, friends, 
Spare her this sight — spare me her pain as well ! 

[She faints, and is carried out. 
Stat. Lucius, I fear you suffer. 
Sen. Ay, the pain 

Is more than I expected. I had thought 
Death would be easier. 

Stat. Oh, my friend, my friend ! 

Sen. Give me a draught of hemlock, Statius, 
And that will end it sooner. I am weak, 
So weak, and yet life will not quit its hold. 
Some hemlock; let me die like Socrates. 
Weep not, good friends, bear up ! 'Tis not for long. 

[Statius gives him the hemlock. 
Ay, that is it. Remember, friends, the soul 
Will find in virtue a perennial spring. 



214 NERO. [Act IV. 

Nothing is sure but virtue, that alone 

Will make the gods propitious. Statius, 

Can you not ease this pain ? Another draught. 

[Statius gives it. 
Ay, death, — death, — death, come quick, — come quick 

to me ! 
We live philosophers, we die as men. 
All, all must come to this early or late — 
The king, the beggar — ■ — 

Stat, (aside to friends). Better bear him hence. 
The blood has ceased to flow. (Aside to an attendant.) 

Order a bath, 
Let it be hot, we'll place our friend in that, 
So that the life shall flow out with the blood. 
In this state he may drag out hours of pain. 

Sen. God is within us. Do you hear me, friends 
We cannot shut the door so close, but He, 
The Sacred Spirit, sees us through and through. 
Fashion your thoughts, then, so you shall not shame 
That he should read them. 

Ah, this pain, this pain ! 
Remember this. 



Scene XII.] NERO. 21 5 

Strive, too, to be content. 
If we but think so, little is enough. 
Statius, will it be long before death comes ? 

Stat. I have already bid them to prepare • 
A bath — we will remove you there — and then 
Open another vein. 

Sen. Ay, Statius, 

Do as you will. 

Stat. Lift him and bear him hence. 

Sen. I am ashamed to trouble you, dear friends. 

[They bear him out. 



Scene XII. — Imperial Palace. 

Nero, Popp/ea, and Tigellinus. 

Tigel. Granius has come. 

Nero. Admit him, then, at once. 

Enter Granius. 
Well, sir? 

Gran. Great Caesar, Seneca is dead. 



2l6 NERO. [Act IV. 

Nero. Farewell to him, then. 

Pop. Tell us how he died. 

Gran. Bravely, with many high and noble words. 
When your command he heard, he said — " 'Tis well : " 
And taking leave of all, opened his veins. 
The blood not flowing, then he took a draught 
Of hemlock ; and, that failing, he was laid 
In a hot bath ; then, sprinkling on the slaves 
Who stood beside him there some drops of it, 
He said — " 'Tis a libation now I pour 
To Jove the Liberator." Even then 
Life would not leave him, and at last he died 
Stifled within the sudatoria's steam. 

Pop. Poor man ! My heart bleeds when I think of 
him, 
And more, of his poor wife. How is his wife? 

Gran. His wife, Paulina, opened too her veins, 
Seeking to die with him 

Nero. And is she dead ? 

Gran. No, Caesar. 

Pop. Save her I Yet, why save her now ? 

All that life had of joy died when he died. 



Scene XII.] NERO. 217 

Why bind her to this life, since all is lost — 
And yet — yet 

Nero. Shall she live, Poppsea, say ? 

Pop. Ay, Caesar. 

Nero. Then go back at once, and say, 

I order her to live. She shall not die. 
Enough of bloodshed there. I'll not incur 
The odium of the rabble for her death. 

Pop. Ay, let her live ! Out of joy's scattered sheafs 
She yet may glean some remnants, — some poor grains 
To cheer her life. 

Nero. Enough ! Go, Granius. 

Come, my Poppsea, Tigellinus, come. 
We'll see how far the sculptor has advanced 
My golden statue ; then, if you're not tired, 
We'll take a look at the new theatre. 



END OF ACT IV. 



2lS 



ACT V. 



Scene I. — Imperial Palace. 
Popp^ea and Nero. 

Pop. Whence come you, Nero ? 

Nero. From the chariot-race. 

Pop. Were you among the racers ? 

Nero. Ay, I was. 

Pop. Oh, Nero, Nero ! Have you lost all pride, 
All sense of dignity, all proper heed 
For what becomes a Caesar, that you thus 
Degrade your rank, and, 'mid a mob of grooms, 
Whip o'er the course — and, covered with foul dust, 



Scene I.] NERO. 219 

Reeking with sweat, delight in such applause ? 
Fie ! Nero ! 

Nero. Peace ! Poppaea — heed your words ! 

Pop. I say 'tis shameful. 

Nero. And I say — Great gods ! 

I'll not be railed at thus — not even by you ! 

Pop. Nero, be wise, — abandon all these games ; . 
They but degrade you in the public eye. 

Nero. I did not take you for my tutor. 

Pop. Still, 

I pray you, hear me, Nero ! 

Nero. And what's more, 

I bid you hold your peace now, — do you hear ? 

Pop. I say no more. 

Nero. What ! shall I ask of you 

Where I shall go, what I shall do, and say ? 

Pop. You were not wont to speak to me like this. 

Nero. Well, now I speak so. 

Pop. As you will, my lord. 

Yet heed my counsel. Give up these mad pranks ; 
They ill become you. 

Nero. Oh yes, give them up, 



220 NERO. [Act V. 

And stay at home to play with you all day, 
And coax and flatter you. 

Pop. Nay, those glad days 

Are gone for ever — gone beyond recall. 
Where are you going now? 

Nero. What's that to you ? 

Pop. Nothing — and yet so much. 
Nero. Why, this indeed 

Is like my mother ; so she raved and stormed, 
I should go here, go there — at her sweet will ; 
Do this — do that. Next thing, you'll threaten me. 
Pop. Forgive me, Nero, I am sick at heart. 
Nero. And I am sick of you, and all this talk. 
Pop. Stay with me, Nero — cherish, comfort me. 
I've need of it. You know I love you, dear ; 
'Twas for your good I spoke. 

Nero. Take off your hands ; 

I'm in no humour to be coaxed and stroked. 
Leave me alone, I say. 

Pop. Nero, take heed ; 

Be not so violent. You hurt me, dear ; 
You hurt the little creature in my womb. 



Scene I.] NERO. 221 

Nero. Damn it and you. Nay, do you cling to me ? 
Off with you ! 

[Throws her away violently — she falls. 
Pop. Ah, Nero! you have killed me — you have killed 

Not me alone — but 

[She faints. 
Nero. Gods ! what have I done ? 

Why did she cling to me ? Did she not see 
That I was angry ? Help there ! Help, I say ! 

Enter Tigellinus. 
Tigel. Did you call, Caesar ? 

Nero. Yes, I called ; look there ! 

Tigel. Great Jove ! it is the Empress ! What is 

this? 
Nero. She clung to me, and would not let me go. 
I flung her off. She cannot be much hurt. 

[Lifts her. 
How ghastly white she is ! Poppaea, speak. 
She does not answer. Lift her to her couch. 
Poppaea, speak. It's all a feint — a trick. 
Go, call her handmaids — go ! 



222 NERO. [Act V. 

Tigel. I go at once : 

First lift her to her couch. There, that is right. 
Nero. Go — by the gods ! 

[TlGELLINUS goes OUt. 

Poppaea, speak to me ! 
Pop. Ah ! ah ! 

Nero. Poppsea, speak. I never meant 

To harm you. Are you hurt ? How are you now ? 
'Tis I — 'tis Nero. Answer me, I pray ! 

[Opens her eyes a?id stares vaguely round. 
Pop. Where am I ? 

Nero. In my arms. Are you much hurt ? 

Pop. Not much — not much. 
Nero. You're better, are you not ? 

Pop. Much better. Never mind. 

[Faints again. 
Nero. She's gone again. 

Enter Tigellixus, with attendants. 

Lift up the Empress : bear her to her room. 
You, Tigellinus, go call Xenophon : 
Bid all to care for her — do all you can ; 



Scene II.] NERO. 223 

She's frightened more than hurt. 

Tigel. I will, my lord. 

[Exit Tigellinus — they carry her out. 

Nero. The Fates are all against me — I have lost 
A second time an heir. Why, why should she 
So cling to me ? at such a moment, too ! 
And all for jealousy — mere jealousy ! 
Women are all the same. By all the gods ! 
They only strive to thwart and anger me ! 



Scene II. — Street in Rome. 

Helius, Sabinus, Silius Italicus, Galerius 
Trachalus. 

Sab. How long is this to last ? 

Track. How long indeed ? 

Nero grows madder daily. In debauch, 
Folly, and riot, all his time is spent ; 
And now to meet his vast extravagance, 



224 NERO. [Act V. 

Since not the revenues of all the state 
Can cover it, with desecrating hand 
He strips the temples, pillages the shrines 
Devoted to the gods— nothing is safe. 

Sil. No thing nor person, — not Philosophy 
Could save Musonius or Seneca. 
Virtue availed not to ward off the blow 
From Pcetus and Soranus. Justice bent 
Its head before him when Longinus fell. 
But why enumerate ? — the catalogue 
Is all too long that he has writ in blood. 
Track. Is he insane ? 
Hel. Insane in head and heart. 

Insane of purpose, filled with passions mad. 

Insatiate of praise. He knows no check 

To any wild desire that stirs in him. 

One cannot count an hour upon his mood ; 

Fickle, as vain ; mad now for this, now that ; 

Gay, voluble at times ; then cruel, stern, 

And speechless, — wild with sudden, senseless fears, 

And starting at vain shadows, like a horse. 

Despising all the gods, save Isis, whom 



Scene II.] NERO. 225 

He spits upon at times, and all the while 
So superstitious that he dare not move 
Without an omen, or an augury. 
Oh, life with him is a perpetual curse, 
And a perpetual fear. 

Sil. It is indeed. 

For me, I hate him most and trust him least 
When that insufferable smile of his, 
Baleful and cruel, gleams through his white teeth — 
Cold as an Arctic sun on ribs of ice — 
When all his words are smooth, and his tongue oiled, 
And he is bland and courteous. That, I know, 
Portends some horror. 

Track. How long — ah, how long 

Shall we endure this tyrant — where's the end ? 

Sil. God knows ; and yet I fain would hope, not 
long. 
Already in the provinces one feels 
The pulse of tumult. If revolt gets head, 
His power will melt and fall with one great crash, 
As falls the avalanche. 

P 



226 NERO. [Act V. 

Track. God speed the day ! 

I hear in Gaul the mutterings of a storm, 
Where Vindex governs ; over Spain there broods 
Dark discontent, — so Galba writes. If once 
Rebellion break out there, and pour on Rome, 
Nero is lost. Unless, indeed, he take 
His harp, and charm the army by a song, — 
Soldier we know he's not ; and then, besides, 
Who'd follow him, if he should take up arms ? 

Hel. He take up arms ! Yes ! in the theatre — 
Not in the field. If once revolt breaks forth, 
He'll rave and rage, and run to save his life. 

Track. We talk, talk, talk. Gods ! for some hand 
to do. 

Hel. What can we do ? We can but plot and plan 
As Piso did — and earn his fate — no more ! 
Thus making life more hideous. Here in Rome, 
Ever some traitor in a plot there is. 
No — we must wait until the army moves. 

Track. Then let us hope the time will not be long. 



Scene III.] NERO. 227 

Scene III. — Imperial Palace — Poppcea's room. 
Nero, Popp^ea, and Xenophon. 

Nero. How feel you now? Does not the pain abate ? 

Pop. I'm dying. 

Nero. Dying ? No, you shall not die ! 

Pop. I'm dying, Nero ! No, not all your power 
Can save me now. Farewell ! 

Nero. It is not true. 

You say it but to mock me. Xenophon ! 
What is the use of you — and such as you — 
If you can't save her ? 

Xen. All my skill is vain ; 

No mortal hand can keep her here an hour. 

Nero. I'll not believe it. 

Xen. Caesar, 'tis too true. 

Pop. Ah, yes ! my hour has come. Give me your 
hand. 
Farewell ! I loved you, Nero. Think sometimes 
Of your Poppaea. Do not grieve — 'tis best 
Just as it is. 



228 



NERO. 



Nero. My best, my only love ! 

Stay, stay with me ! You cannot — shall not go- 
Pop. Farewell ! 

Nero. 



[Act V. 

- 



No, no ! I will not have you die ! 
[Popp^ea smiles, extends both hands to 
him, falls back and dies. 
Nero. Quick ! Lift her up ! She faints ! 
Xen. Caesar ! 

she's dead. 
Nero. What ! Dead ? It is a lie ! Poppsea, speak ! 
Xen. Nothing can reach her further. She is dead. 
Nero. Poppsea ! No ! that heart is still — those lips, 
Half parted, breathe no more. Great God, she's gone ! 
How beautiful she is ! Look, Xenophon, 
There lies the only woman that I loved. 
You let her die. Why did you let her die ? 

Xen. Death we can give, but life we cannot give. 
Nero. Yes, she is beautiful ! How still she lies ! 
How perfect in her calm ! No more distress, 
No agitations more ; no joy — no pain. 
I'll keep her as she is. Fire shall not burn 
That lovely shape ; but it shall sleep embalmed — 



Scene III.] NERO. 229 

Thus — thus for ever in the Julian tomb. 
And she shall be enrolled among the gods. 
A splendid temple shall be raised to her, 
A public funeral be hers, and I 
The funeral eulogy myself will speak ; — 
And this is all. She never will come back — 
Never will smile — never will sing again. 
Pity — oh, what a pity — Xenophon ! 
See to it that she be embalmed, I say, 
And all her beauty kept just as it is. 

There, my Poppsea, sleep 

Look, Xenophon, 
I thought she smiled and moved ! You're sure she's 
dead? 

Xen. 'Twas but a light that glanced across her face — 
A breath of wind that dallied with her hair. 

Nero. You're sure? 

Xen. Quite sure. 

Nero. Stay, and keep 

watch on her. 
Perhaps — who knows ? — life may come back again ! 
I'll go and sacrifice to Isis now. 



230 



NERO. 



[Act V 



Scene IV. — Camp in Spain. 

Galba, Vindex, Otho, T. Vinius, and 
others. 



Vind. The time is ripe ; we only wait for you. 
Say but the word, we'll place you on the throne. 
Enough we have endured ; Rome calls to us 
As she lies bleeding 'neath that tyrant's heel, 
Bids us awake, arouse, and set her free. 
Speak, Galba ! be our head — our emperor ! 

Otho. Ay, Galba, we are all in this agreed. 
Give us your pledge. Think upon him who slew 
Our dearest friends, and drive him from his place. 
Think of our country over whom he broods 
Like some dread incubus — and shake him off. 
Let virtue yet be possible in Rome. 

Gal. If I accept, 'tis not because I crave 
That gilded circle. 'Tis not that I feel 
Ambition's goad — but that my country calls, — 
My bleeding country, trampled under foot 



Scene IV.] NERO. 23 1 

By this wild despot, by this bloody boy, — 

This riotous, debauched, and murderous boy. 

I am the legate of the Senate here, 

And of the people — bound to act for them — 

Ready to sacrifice my life for them. 

Yet I am old; age, cares, have thinned my blood; 

And better peace and rest would suit my wish 

Than to be lifted high, where every blast 

Would shake me. Still, unto my country's call 

I yield ; and, though I do not take the crown, 

As legate of the Senate I accept 

The leadership. Do with me as you will. 

Otho. Thanks, noble Galba ; not from us alone, 
But from all Rome, from all Rome's provinces. 
There's not. a soldier in the ranks but pants 
To be led on against our common foe. 
The generals are with us, all of them — 
Save as the voice runs, Rufus, who commands 
In Upper Germany. Yet have I hope 
He, too, will join us — nay, am sure of it — 
Once we get speech of him, as soon I shall. 

Gal. Virginius Rufus is a noble man, 



232 NERO. [Act V. 

Of virtue, daring, and integrity ; 
He can but scorn and hate, as all of us, 
The low, lascivious tyrant and buffoon. 
Viiid. Therefore, I count on him. 

Otho. Be sure we may. 

If he hold back, 'tis not that he would prop 
This tyrant up, but that he hesitates 
On his successor. 

Gal. Put me, then, aside ; 

Offer my place to Rums ; I shall yield, 
And thank him to assume its heavy cares. 

Otho. No — you shall be our leader ; we on you 
Alone can concentrate our utmost power. 
We will stand with you — all the army will. 

Gal. Legate of Rome I am, and nothing else, 
But I am ready. 

Vind. Be it thus ; and now 

Only remains to organise our plans. 
Rufus persuaded, without bar or let 
We march to Rome ; trust me, he will not stay 
To meet our army ; rather we shall find 
The tiger, changed into a hare, has fled; 



Scene IV.] NERO. 233 

And all Rome open with one single voice 
To clamour welcome and to cheer us home. 
He is not valiant, and his vices cling 
So close about him in their foul embrace, 
That they have killed his manhood out of him. 

Otho. Ay ; should he have the courage, from his 
side 
All would fall off, as, at the first rude shake, 
The leaves of winter from a frost-struck tree. 
The ghosts of all the dead that he has slain 
Would gather round him, mock at him, and cow 
The best part in him. He will die ten deaths 
Before he sees us, entering through his ears ! 

Vind. Shake, Nero ! shake upon your throne ! We 
come ! 
Hark, Rome, we come to free you from your yoke ! 

Gal. Your words put fire into my blood. I feel 
Five lustra younger. 

Vind. To the balcony ! 

The soldiers wait us. Let them hear your voice. 

[ They go to the balcony. 
Soldiers, behold our Caesar ! Health, and life, 



234 NERO. [Act 

And victory to him, and to our arms ! 
We go to Rome to shake from off his throne 
The bestial tyrant that oppresses all; 
The villain that has wallowed in the blood 
Of father, mother, brother, master, wife ; 
The wretched singer, fiddler, player, groom ; 
The cruel master to whom all are slaves, — 
You, I, and all that groan beneath his rod. 

Soldiers below. Galba shall be our Caesar ! 

Gal. Nay, not so ; 

I am but legate of the Senate here. 
Say, will you strike for freedom and for Rome ? 
Give us your voices — Rome and victory ! 

Sold. Rome ! Rome and victory ! 

Vin. Again ! again ! 

Sold. Galba shall be our Csesar ! Lead us on ! 
Rome ! Rome ! and death to Nero ! 

Gal Ay, that's well. 

Give us your good swords, we will cut our way. 
Each soldier on his helmet's crest shall wear 
The laurel leaf; and plumed Victory 
Fly o'er our golden eagles ; the wide air 






Scene V.] NERO. 235 

Shall sound with full largess of ringing cheers ; 
Rome shall cry out her thanks ; mothers hold up 
High in the air their babes to welcome you ; 
Children with silver treble shout ; old men 
Come tottering forth, eager to grasp your hands ; 
Friends grapple you with joy in their embrace ; 
And Rome shout welcome from a million mouths ! 
Let us in resolution, then, be stern, 
To free our country, whatsoe'er betide — 
All with one spirit fired, one wish, one hope, 
One watchword — Death to Nero, Life to Rome ! 



Scene V. — Imperial Palace. 

Nero, Sporus, Sabinus, and Tigellinus. 

Nero. Sporus, in you Poppaea lives again ; 
My poor Poppasa, whom the Fates have torn 
From out these arms. Your eyes, your face, your hair 



236 XERO. [Act V. 

Bring her again before me. 

Sab. Ay, in truth 

He much resembles her. 

Nero. Resembles her ! 

It almost seems as if she still were here, 
He is so like her. By great Jupiter ! 
Were you a maid, I swear I'd marry you ! 

Spor. Oh, Caesar, Caesar ! 

Nero. Nay, I would, I say. 

And, as it is, you mind me so of her, 
Boy as you are, I'll wed you ; ay, I will. 

Tigel. Think, Caesar — think on what you say ! 

Nero. I do ; 

And, all the more I think, the more I say 
111 many him. 

Tigel. Think, Caesar, what the world, 

Which likes you not too well, would say of this. 

Nero. What care I for the rabble, and their talk ? 
To me 'tis nothing — I am Caesar still ; 
Who shall prevent me doing as I choose ? 

Tigel. I pray you, Caesar, yield not to this whim. 
Love Sporus, if you will ; there let it end. 



Scene V.] NERO. 237 

Nero. Say, Sporus, will you wed me? Say, dear 

boy! 
Spor. Caesar, I am your slave, and if you will, 
I must obey ; but press me not to this. 

Nero. I will, I say : you do not love me then ? 
Spor. Caesar, you have been ever kind to me. 
Nero. I will be kinder, — all things you shall have — 
Pomp, station, fortune, everything you wish. 
Let them, who dare, rail at me, I will see 
The tongue that threatens never wags again ! 
Nay, Tigellinus, never shake your head, 
Nor look so sour. I have made up my mind. 
See 'that the marriage-rites are all prepared. 
I'll wed him. Yes ; by Jupiter, I will ! 
Now come with me, my Sporus, come with me ! 

[Exit Nero and Sporus. 
Tigel. This is the maddest freak of all as yet. 
Sab. It is the wildest, most insensate freak. 
Yet, it were useless to oppose his will. 
Give him loose rein, perhaps he'll tire of it. 

Tigel. He'll do it. He grows madder every day, 
Despite the growling voices all around. 



238 NERO. [Act 

Sab. He loved Poppsea to the very last, 
And since he lost her, ever thinks on her. 

Tigel. Ah, poor Poppsea ! Ay, I truly think 
That cruel work of his half staggered him ; 
He has not been so reckless in his crimes 
Since that sad day. 

Sab. Perhaps : but in debauch, 

Riot, and folly, and mad vanity, 
He has excelled himself. 

Tigel. Ay ; since he went 

To the Olympic games and won a crown, 
And came in triumph home, he has indeed 
Grown mad with vanity. 

Sab. You say, in crime 

He is less reckless now • yet call to mind 
The singer whom he fiercely put to death 
When, at the Isthmian games he sang too loud, 
And drowned our Caesar's voice ; and think again 
Upon old Corbulo whom with false words 
He lured to death. Think on Soranus, too, 
And Pectus 



Scene V.] NERO. . 239 

Tigel. No, I will not think of them : 

We in his hands are all like plaster dolls 
That a child plays with ; in a fit of spite 
He crushes best or worst ; no one is safe. 
Not you, not I, if in his way we come 
When the mad fit is on him. - 

Sab. Do you think 

He'll marry Sporus ? 

Tigel. If he choose, he will ; 

And if he choose will kill him the next day. 

Sab. Let him alone, and hinder not his whims. 
Praise him — no praise is too extravagant — 
Praise him in all things — for his sword, harp, song, 
His chariot-driving, painting, sculpture, all, 
And he will smile upon you and caress ; 
Thwart him, he is a fierce and dangerous Fate ! 

Tigel. Well, we must bow our heads, and let him go ; 
'Twill not be long, I think, before he falls. 

[Exeunt. 



240 



NERO. 



[Act V. 



Scene VI. — Imperial Palace. 



Nero and Sabinus. 



Sab. Caesar, there's black news from the provinces. 

Nero. What news ? 

Sab. The Spanish troops are in revolt ; 

Galba is at their head, and all the Gauls 
Have joined him under Vindex. 

Nero. Galba, too? 

Galba revolted ? Why, I thought his head 
Had fallen from his shoulders. My commands 
Were for his death. 

Sab. He rose to arms at once, 

Called on his soldiers, who made part with him. 
They have proclaimed him Caesar. Otho, too, 
Has joined them. They are marching on to Rome. 

Nero. What ! Marching on to Rome ? Great 
Jupiter ! 
What's to be done? 

Sab. Rufus in Germany, 



Scene VI.] NERO. 241 

So run the tidings, with his army stands 
In opposition, not from love of you, 
But hate of Galba. 'Tis our only chance, 
They quarrel there together. 

Nero. Let them fight, 

And tear each other, — curses on them all ! 
Ah, this was then the meaning of my dreams ! 

Sab. What dreams, my Caesar? 

Nero. Ugly, ugly dreams. 

I dreamed I was on shipboard at the helm, 
Which suddenly was snatched from out my hand. 
Another time Octavia came to me, 
And dragged me off into the dark, and there 
Black winged ants with stings swarmed over me, — 
Disgusting ants. Once suddenly my horse 
Was changed into an ape, but still his head 
Neighed plaintively ; and only yesternight 
I thought the Mausoleum-gate swung back, 
And from within a ghastly, fearful voice 
Cried, " Nero ! Nero ! " and I started up 
In terror, while the cold and beaded sweat 
Oozed out all over me ; and shivering there 
Q 



242 



NERO. 



[Act V. 



I stood and listened in the awful night. 

No one was near : I called, and no one came : 

" Help ! help ! " I cried, and no one answered me. 

Sab. 'Twas but a dream. 

Nero. It was a ghastly dream. 

I cannot shake it off; it clings to me. 
Oh, all is over ! all is over now ! 
They will dethrone me. 

Sab. Rouse, my Caesar, rouse ! 

'Tis time for action, not for fears like this. 
These are but shadows,— rouse and meet the facts. 
Time flies ! Oh, summon all your energies, — 
Clear up your thoughts, — something must now be 
done. 

Nero. I cannot act ; I have no power to act. 
What can I do ? If they march on to Rome, 
They'll drive me from my throne. Do you not see, 
They'll drive me from my throne ! 

Sab. Caesar, as yet 

The power is in your hands, — yield not to fear. 

Nero. What can I do, Sabinus ? All is lost. 
Ah, I would rather die than lose my throne ! 



Scene VI.] NERO. 243 

Sab. ; Tis not the time to die; but live, and act. 
Nero. I will. Oh, let me think ! What shall I do ? 
{After a pause.) Curses upon them all — I'll strangle 

them, — 
All the commanders — all the governors ! 

Sab. They are not in your power ; — this will not do. 
[Nero pauses again — walks up 
and doivn in great agitation. 
Nero. Then all the exiles, all the Gauls in Rome, 
I'll massacre ! 

Sab. This would inflame revolt, 

And give new vigour to your enemies. 

[Nero pauses — throws himself on 
a couch, buries his head in his 
hands — then suddenly rises. 
Nero. What shall I do, then ? I'll set fire to Rome, — 
I'll poison all the Senate at a feast, — 
I'll let the wild beasts loose to tear them all ! 
Something I'll do : I will not die without 
Some horrible revenge ! Would they were all 
Here in my hand, — I'd crush them all like flies ! 
I'd tear them as I tear this robe of mine, — 



244 NERO. [Act V. 

There ! there ! and there ! — I'd tear them up like that ! 
And fling them off like that ! and that ! and that ! — 
{Pause.) Why don't you speak? why don't you speak, 

I say? 
You have no pity on me : there you stand, 
And will not help me. 

Sab. Caesar, I await 

Some definite command : what shall I do ? 

Nero. Do ? do ? — There's no one here to strike a 
blow, — 
No one to help me ! Do you think they'll come ? 

Sab. I fear they will. [A 

Nero. Well, then, I'll go to them 

Defenceless — without arms — in mourning robes ; 
I'll throw myself before them, and shed tears : 
And, touched by this, they'll surely help me up ; 
And gather round me, and repent, and pray 
Forgiveness. Then I shall forgive them all, 
And we again will enter into Rome ; — 
And all will cry, " Hail, Csesar ! Caesar, hail ! " 
And I next day will come before you all, 



Scene VI.] NERO. 245 

And chant myself the chant of victory. 
Say now, Sabinus, is't not well conceived ? 
They will embrace me, — I am sure they will, — 
And cry out, " Long live Caesar ! " That is best. 

Sab. Summon your strength up, Caesar. Do not lean 
On this weak reed, or you will fall indeed. 

Nero. No, no ! that is the plan, — not a word more. 
No need to fight. Now leave me: I must think 
Upon the chant that I shall sing to them — 
The chant of Victory. Go, go, good friend ! 
It shall begin — go, leave me ! See you not 
I must compose the chant to Victory ? 

Sab. Caesar, I take my leave. Think, think of it,— 
And do not trust to such an idle scheme. 

[Sabinus goes to the door. 

Nero. Stop ! say, how old is Galba ? 

Sab. Seventy-three. 

Nero. Almighty gods ! then all indeed is lost ! 

Sab. Why, Caesar? 

Nero. Know you not the oracle 

That said the fatal number — seventy-three — 



246 



NERO. 



[Act V. 



Should mark my death ? I thought it was my age : 

But now, I see 'tis Galba's. I am lost ! 

Lost ! lost ! Oh, curses on their oracles, 

That flatter while they lie ! Whom shall we trust, 

If the gods lie to us ? 

Sab. Caesar, be calm ! 

Nero. Go, leave me ! — No, stay with me ! Can it be 
That the gods lie ? Did they not promise me ? — 
Are they not bound to what they promise, say ? 
I'll not believe it. No, I will not die .! 
I — die ! why, I am only thirty-two ! 
They promised seventy-three ; say, did they not ? 

Sab. Ay, Caesar, so you say, — so it was said. 

Nero. Then they are bound to it, — I shall not die ! 
Now, go ! and leave me to compose my chant. 

[Sabinus goes out. 

Nero {drawing out the little figure of a child, which 
he wears on his person as a talisman). 
Speak, if my time is come, — if not, keep peace. 
'Tis silent. Thanks, thanks, thanks ! — ah, I shall live ! 



Scene VII. ] NERO. 247 

Scene VII. — Camp in Spain. 

Galba, Otho, T. Vinius, Corn. Laco. 
Officers — Guards— -Attendants. 

Gal. We have lost Vindex, and in him have lost 
The right arm of our cause. 

Otho. It was indeed 

A grievous loss. He was of royal blood, 
And had a heart of royal qualities ; — 
Ready to serve, and able to command, — 
Of high ambition for all noble ends, 
Manly, unselfish, just ; — of earnest will, 
And quiet conduct, — loyal to his friends, 
Firm to his principles, — upon the field 
An able leader ; — and in losing him 
Much we have lost. 

Gal. Ay, we have lost the heart 



248 NERO. [Act 

Out of this enterprise ; while he was here 
Our cause was strong. Bereft of him, I feel 
The doubts, the dangers, that encompass us. 

Otho. We have marched on so far, that nought 
remains 
But to march on. Our cause is still the same ; 
Nero still lives and rules. To falter now 
Were to court Death to us — Ruin to Rome. 

Gal. Was it by his own hand he fell at last ? 

Otho. I do not think it. All was a mistake. 
Rufus and he in their long conference 
Had, as it seemed, agreed in everything. 
As he returned, by some unhappy chance 
The soldiers in the camp of Rufus thought 
They were attacked, and fell on Vindex' train, 
And in the wild confusion he was killed. 
Then Rufus by his soldiers was proclaimed 
As Caesar, but he steadily refused, 
Declaring that the Senate should alone 
Proclaim their emperor ; and thus things stand. 

Gal. All is confused and broken up by this. 



Scene VIL] NERO. 249 

My strength is gone, my will is gone from me ; 
Better that I withdraw — for I am old. 
This thing has cowed the better part of me. 

Otho. You shall not leave us. You shall not with- 
draw. 
Friends, help me with your voices. 

Vin. That I will. 

Our lot is cast together; we will win 
Or lose together. Closer let us draw. 
One man — a noble one indeed — is fallen ; 
Close up the ranks, then. Shall one death dismay ? 
Nay, though a hundred deaths were in our path 
We must go on. 

Laco. Must — ay, and will — I say ! 

Look up, good general, let not your heart 
Be clouded now. Who comes ? 

Vin. 'Tis Icelus. 

Enter Icelus. 
Gal What? Icelus! 
I eel. Hail, Caesar ! 



250 



NERO. 



Gal. 



[Act V. 
No, my friend. 



I, the mere legate of the Senate here 

Icel. Hail, Caesar ! For the Senate has proclaimed 
That you are Caesar, — no mere legate now. 
I post to bring the tidings. Rome is up ; 
Nero is lost ; his friends fall off from him. 
All voices are for you. 

Gal. You bring such news, 

I scarce can credit them. 

Icel. And yet, they're true. 

Caesar you are. 

Gal. Then, let my first act be 

Him to reward who brings such welcome news. 
Take this gold ring — you are a Roman knight ! 
Your title " Marcianus " from this day. 

Icel. Thanks, Caesar ! I will strive to bear the rank 
So that I shall not tarnish my new name. 

Gal. All smiles — no more delay — let us march on. 

Otho. Ay, onward, friends ; onward at once to 
Rome ! 



Scene VIII. ] NERO. 251 



Scene VIII. — Imperial Palace — Nero and companions 
at supper. 

Tigellinus, Phaon, Sporus, Helius, Sabinus. 

Nero. So, Vindex says I know not how to play ! 
Curse him for that ! I'll have his head for it. 
Had he but said I know not how to rule, 
'Twould not have vexed me. But to say of me 
I am not skilled in music ! I, whose head 
Was crowned in Greece for this same noble art ; 
The Furies tear him ! Know you any one 
More skilled than I am, Tigellinus ? Say. 

Tigel. Caesar, you are the first in all the world. 

Nero. Ay, so they say in Greece. When supper's 
done, 
I'll show you instruments by me contrived 
To play by water ; and when Vindex' head 
Is brought to me, I will exhibit them 
Upon the public stage, and all shall hear. 

Tigel. Ay, Caesar, and all Rome will then applaud. 



252 NERO. [ActV. 



Nero. And as for Galba, — that old sordid fool, 
Who dares revolt, — seize on his goods and slaves ! 
At least we'll have our pleasure out of them. 

Tigel. He never used them, miser that he is ! 

Nero. Well, well ! we'll teach him how to use them 
now. 
" Ahenobarbus," am I ? So, they say, 
He dares to call me. Let him ; he shall find 
The " Brazen-beard " will prove a brazen-hand 
To strike him to his death, the bald old knave ! 
Who's there? A messenger? What news — what news? 






Enter a 

Mess. Caesar, good news. Vindex is dead, they say. 

Nero. Ah, ha ! my Vindex — who's the " Avenger " 
now? 
Vindex, indeed ! Great Vindex d@wn so low ! 
Rise, friends ! This cup to Jupiter I pledge," 
The liberator. And how came his death ? 

Mess. He by Virgin ius Rufus was attacked, 
And by the soldiers slain ; or, as some say, 



Scene VIII. ] NERO. 253 

By his own sword he perished. 

Nero. Take that cup 

For the good news you bring. Now for a song, 
And let the theme be Vindex. Bring me quick 
My harp ! We'll have a whole night of debauch ; 
Ay, wild debauch ! So, then, he thought to shake 
The Caesar from his throne — the wretched fool ! 
But who is here? — Another messenger? 

Enter a Messenger. 

Well, and what news bring you ? 

Mess. Great Caesar, hail ! 

A letter from the army in the west. 

[Hands it to him — Nero reads. 
Nero. Ha! What is this? "The armies all have 
joined 
In the revolt with Galba. Like a storm 
They march to Rome. There is no hour to lose. 
Caesar must summon all his energies 
To meet them in the field." 

'Tis all a lie ! 



254 NERO. [Act V. 



Tigel. Pray God it be ! 

Nero. Oh, damn them, — damr 

them all ! 
Oh, would I had them here — here in my hands, — 
I'd smash them like these vases — there ! and there ! 

[Dashes two Homeric vases on the ground. 
Tigel. Patience, great Caesar. 

Nero. Nay, I'd kick them down, 

Just as I do this table. Curse them all ! 

[Kicks over the table. 
{To the first messenger.) And as for you. Seize him — 

away with him ! 
Tear out his heart ! Tear out his lying tongue, 
That told those stupid tidings ! Off with him ! 

Mess. Pardon, great Caesar — I was forced to bring 
This hapless message. 

Nero. Curs'd be he who brings 

Bad tidings ! He shall live to bring no more ! 

[They carry him out. 
{After a pause.) All is lost now ; they'll be upon me 
soon. 






Scene VIII.] NERO. 255 

What shall I do ? Where shall I fly ? Go you, 
Bid them make ready vessels for my flight. 
Freight the whole fleet at Ostia for my use ; 
Send there my instruments, — all, all of them. 
Call all the tribunes and centurions in ; 
Go call them, Helius — call them in at once ! 

[Helius goes out. 
Where shall I go ? What shall I do ? I say, 
Speak, Tigellinus ! 

Tigel. Nay, I scarce can say ; 

All things look black. 

Nero. All, all is lost ! all lost ! 

Look, Tigellinus, Phaon, all of you, 
If I should to the Parthians fly, and there 
Seek Galba ; fling myself upon my knees, 
Ask pardon for the past, surrender him 
The throne in Rome, and offer in its stead 
To take command of Egypt, — do you think 
He would refuse me ? 

Tigel. Ay, my lord ; I think 

What he would give would be the naked sword ; 



256 



NERO. 



[Act V. 



What he'd refuse would simply be your life. 

Nero. What shall I do, then ? Somewhere I 
must fly. 



Enter Helius with Tribunes. 

Oh, my good friends, dear friends, my faithful guard ! 
The enemy is coming, from my seat 
To drive me, — but I will not have more blood ; 
No — I will fly from here, and lade the fleet 
With all my treasures. You must go with me, 
To guard me and protect me in my flight. 
I count upon you, — you may count on me, — 
And lavishly will I your faith reward. 

[They remain silent. 
What ! Silent all ? What mean you ? — why is this ? 

ist Tribune. We cannot be the guardians of your 
flight. 

2d Trib. We must remain in Rome. 

$d Trib. Our duty's here. 

Stay here ; we will attend you. 

Nero. See you not 

I cannot stay ? To stay here is to die. 



Scene VIII.] NERO. 257 

4th Trib. Is it so terrible to die ? 
Nero. Great God ! 

You have no pity on me. Leave me now, 
But stay without and don't abandon me. 

[ They go oat. 
I will put on my mourning robes, and go 
And ask forgiveness at the Rostra. There 

The people will uphold me and forgive 

Tigel. Stay, Caesar ! They would tear you like wild 
dogs 
Ere you had reached the Rostra. 

Nero. Gods ! 

Hel. Ay, stay ; 

Outside this house your life's not worth a straw. 

Nero. I will not go, or not to-day at least. 
I'll think it o'er to-night. 

\_Fumbles in his robes. 
{To himself.) Where is my box? 
Ay, here it is, and poison in it, too. 
This is the only friend deserts me not 
When all is lost. This I will take with me. 
Stay here, dear friends, I will go out a space. 

R 



258 



NERO. 



[Act V. 






Something I must resolve upon, and soon. 
Stay, — wait for me. 

[Exit Nero. 

Tigel. What's to be done ? 

Sab. You stay here, if you choose ; 

/ leave the palace. 

Tigel. Whither do you go ? 

Sab. To cast my lot with Galba. 

Tigel So shall I. 

Nero is lost ; his life hangs on a thread ; 
And so do ours who here with him remain. 
Come, Helius, are you with us ? 

Hel. Ay, indeed ; 

Why should I stay ? The house shakes \ ere it fall, 
Let those flee out of it who love their life. 

[Exeunt Tigellinus, Sabinus, and Helius. 

Pha. They all drop off. 

Spor. And are you going too ? 

Pha. No, I remain. 

Spor. I, too. He was to me 

Ever a kindly master ; I have fed 
Out of his bounty ; I will stay with him. 



Scene VIII.] NERO. 259 

Pha. You have a man's heart ! What a crew is 
this 
Which just have fled ! Foul suckers that drop off 
When they no more can on their victim gorge. 
This Tigellinus ever goaded him 
In all his vices ; with unwearied zeal 
Abetted all his crimes ; in his debauch 
And riotous excesses pushed him on, — 
Fed on him, flattered him, and ducked to him, — 
Within his sunshine basked, and buzzed, and stung ; 
And, now the shadow comes, off, like a fly, — 
A pestilent and stinking fly, — he goes ! 

Spor. It is the nature of such things as he, — 
Such black-and-yellow-banded wasps, that cling 
To the ripe fruit, and rot it as they feed. 

Pha. Nay, — ever liked he better carrion. 
Shall we wait here, or in the ante-room ? 

Spor. Let us withdraw. If Csesar need our aid 
He'll summon us, whenever he returns. 

[Exeunt. 



260 NERO. [Act V. 

Scene IX. — Imperial Palace. 
Nero alone, midnight, on his couch asleep — awakes. 

Nero. What noise was that? Ho, guards ! Where 
are you all ? 
No answer : have they left me ? Ho, I say ! 
Phaon ! Epaphroditus ! Silence still ? 
I am abandoned, — all of them are fled : 
A vaunt, I say ! — what shadow is that there ? 
My mother's shape — my mother's voice : she calls — 
She calls me. No ! I say, I will not come ! 
Away, grim shadow ! Ah ! 'tis gone at last. 
My hour is come, — 'tis time to end it all. 
Where is my box of poison ? One small drop, 
And I shall sleep, never to wake again. 
Where is it? Gone? gone? Everything is gone ! 
They've stolen all, — plate, hangings, vases, cups ; 
Nothing they've left me, — no, not even a knife, 
Not even my poison, — not even death itself ! 



Scene IX.] NERO. 26 1 

Spicillus ! Ho, Spicillus ! come to me, — 
Come, kill me, for I cannot kill myself. 
Spicillus ! No ! Even he is gone, even he, — 
My gladiator ! Ah ! no friend have I, 
Not even an enemy, — they all have fled. 
No dagger, even ! How then shall I die ? 
The Tiber,— ah, the Tiber ! 

[Rushes out, and returns in a moment. 
No, no — that is too awful. No, not that ; 
How cold, how cold it is. I shiver here ! 
Great God ! who's there ? Britannicus ? No, no ! 
Away ! I did not kill you — 'twas a fit. 
Shake not your head, — lift not your threatening hand. 
You, too, — my mother, — do not smile on me, — 
It is too ghastly. No, it is not come, 
My hour has not yet come — Who, who are you 
That crowd behind me in the shadow there ? 
'Tis all a lie ! Help ! help ! They threaten me, — 
They mock me ! Off, off ! Oh, this river of blood 
That pours along the floor, and wets my feet : 
'Tis rising, rising ! I shall drown in it ! 



262 NERO. [Act V. 

Help ! help ! Away, ye phantoms ! 

They are gone. 
Thank God, they are gone ! Where am I ? Am I mad ? 
What is it that has happened ? Some one, speak ! 
What shall I do ? Oh God, will no one come ? 
Phaon ! good Phaon ! Sporus ! Any one ! 
Ho, Phaon ! 

Enter Phaon. 

Pha. Caesar, have you called me long? 
I slept, and only at this moment heard. 

Nero. Oh, Phaon, Phaon ! I am all alone ; 
All have abandoned me. 

Pha. Caesar, not all — 

Sporus, Epaphroditus, I, am here, — 
Also Menecrates. 

Nero. Where are the guards ? 

Pha. They all have fled. 

Nero. We, too, must flee at once. 

Will you desert me too ? 

Pha. Nay, count on us ; 



Scene IX.] NERO. 263 

We will be faithful, even to the last. 

Nero. We must begone. Oh, whither shall we go ? 

Pha. I have a villa, lying close to Rome, 
'Twixt the Salara and Nomentan gate, 
Four miles away. There you might hide yourself, 
And wait events, for danger threatens here. 
Off from the road it lies half hid by trees, 
Embowered in vines, — secluded, out of sight, 
A humble place, but safe. 

Nero. Let us go quick, 

Before the daylight comes ! Oh, Phaon, thanks ! 
The dark will hide us from all prying eyes. 
Call them, call all of them, and let us flee. 

Pha. They are here, Caesar, in the ante-room. 

[ Calls them in. 

Enter Menecrates, Sporus, Epaphroditus. 

Nero. We must begone at once, ere the day comes. 
Will you go with me ? You are all my train ? 
Spor. I will. 
Epaph. And I. 



264 NERO. [Act V. 

Men. And I. 

Nero. Oh, is it come 

To this ? Well, well, let us be off at once ! 

Pha. Stay ! let me lace your sandals on your feet. 

Nero. No time for that. I'll go with naked feet, 
Just as I am, this old cloak will suffice. 
Stop ! let me hide my face — a handkerchief — 
Thanks, that will do. You would not know me now ? 

Pha. No one would know you thus. 

Nero. So ! That is all. 

Go, get the horses. 

Great God ! what was that ? 

Pha. 'Twas thunder. 

Nero. .Let the lightnings strike me, then ; 

They cannot strike a poorer, lower man. 
Come ! come ! Farewell, my house ; farewell, my joy ! 
I go, like GEdipus, a wanderer 
Into the storm, out into the black night — 
What matters where, since death is everywhere. 

\Thunder — they go out. 



Scene X.] NERO. 265 

Scene X. — Forum. 

TlGELLINUS, SABINUS. 

Sab. Whence come you, Tigellinus, and what news ? 

Tigel. Caesar has fled. I from the palace come. 

Sab. Caesar has fled ? 

Tigel. Ay. 

Sab. Whither has he gone ? 

Tigel. I know not. 

Sab. Who went with him — any one ? 

Tigel. I cannot learn, for no one saw him go. 

Sab. Whom found you at the palace ? 

Tigel. Not a soul. 

The place was all deserted ; not a guard 
Was at his station ; — all the doors were wide ; — 
Dead silence everywhere. No sound of life, 
But the resounding echoes rolling dull 
Along the vaulted galleries and halls, 
As on from room to room I vainly searched. 
All in disorder, — tables overthrown, — 



266 NERO. [Act V. 

Curtains torn down, — the floor with fragments strewn : 
Smashed vases, broken chairs, and lamps, and plates 
In ruin massed. The guards had wrecked it all 
Before they fled. A miserable sight ! 
I called aloud, but no one answered me. 
Life had gone out, Death entered in its place. 
Sab. Where has he fled ? 

Tigel. By the Nomentan gate — 

So rumour runs — he from the city passed. 
'Twas early dawn — a black and stormy dawn, — 
The thunder pealed, incessant lightning flashed : 
And, as a band of five rode out the gate, 
Earth quaked and shuddered ; and the steed of one, 
Scared by a corpse that lay upon the road, 
Started aside, when from his rider's brow 
The handkerchief in which 'twas swaddled up 
Dropped, and disclosed the white and ghastly face 
Of Nero. So at least Missicius says, 
And he, as a praetorian guard, should know 
The face of Nero. He saluted him ; 
But Nero took no notice. Some one then 
Cried out to them, "What are the news in Rome 



1 



Scene X.] NERO. 267 

Of Nero ? " Nought they answered, but rode on. 

Sab. Think you 'twas he ? 

Tigel. It may have been, who knows ? 

If he it were, the sounds of the near camps 
Shouting, " Hail, Galba ! " " Death to Nero ! " must 
Within his ears have sounded like a doom. 

Sab. Poor, silly Caesar ! — there's an end of him. 

Tigel. Ay, and an end of all those glorious nights— 
The riot, and the dances, and debauch, — 
The singing, harping, chariot-racing, — all ! 

Sab. The worse for you, — the better for all Rome. 

Tigel. That wretched Galba ! He a Caesar ! He 
Who never spent a penny all the year, 
The dirty miser ! Otho comes with him,— 
My voice shall be for Otho. He will make 
Old Galba but a stepping-stone to power. 

Sab. He is an honest man, if nothing else. 

Tigel. Honest ? bah ! You'll hear what the army 
says, 
When he can't find a gold piece in his purse 
To chuck to those who split their throats for him. 

Sab. What will be will be, — he who lives will see. 



268 NERO. [Act V. 



Scene XI. — Villa of Phaon, room underground- 
early morning. 



Phaon, Sporus, Menecrates, and Epaphroditus 
Nerc 
cloak. 



Nero on a wretched mattress, covered with an old 



Pha. Courage ! Oh, sink not down in such despair : 
Here, we are safe. 

Nero. Ah, God ! 

Spor. Nay, groan not so ; 

Dear Caesar, do not weep so bitterly ! 

Nero. Hist ! hist ! what's that ? 

Pha. 'Tis but a breaking branch. 

Nero. Oh, what a night ! How horribly the wind 
Rages and groans ! Hark ! is there no one there ? 

Spor. 'Tis but a bird that flutters through the leaves. 

Nero. See, how my hands are torn ! — my cloak's wet 
through, 
And stained with filthy mud. Fill up that hole 
Through which we crept. 



Scene XL] NERO. 269 

Spor. My Caesar, are you cold ? 

Nero. Yes — no, — I know not ! 

Spor. Take this cloak of mine. 

Nero. Thanks, Sporus. Is there nothing here to eat ? 

Pha. Nothing but this black loaf, I fear. 

Nero. What ? that ! 

Take it away ! Is there no water here ? 

Pha. I know not, — I will see ; ay, here is some, 
Turbid, and scarcely fit to drink, I fear, 
But all that I can find. 

Nero. Well, give me that ; 

I die of thirst. How stale and warm it fs ! 
Oh, what a drink for Nero ! Pah ! enough ! 

Pha. I dare not go for more — 'tis now too light : 
Some one might see me, and so track you here. 

Nero. Stay ! stay ! You're sure that no one followed us ? 

Pha. I think not ; will you try to rest awhile ? 

Nero. I cannot rest ; I shall sleep soon enough 
A sleep that all the thunders of the earth 
Will never break ; nothing remains for me 
But death — death — death ! 

Epaph. Summon your courage, then, 



270 . NERO. [Act V. 

And meet it like a man, — all men must die. 
You, I, and all of us. All we can do 
Is to die bravely. 

Nero. Yes ! yes ! yes ! to die. 

Give me a dagger. 

Epaph. Caesar, there it is. 

Nero. Is the point sharp ? 

Epaph. Tis sharp enough to kill. 

[Nero takes it— feels the point — shudders, 
and returns it to Epaphroditus. 

Nero. I cannot. No, not yet ; 'tis not yet time. 
My grave is not yet dug ; first dig my grave. 

Pha. Caesar, we will. 

Nero. There, Phaon ; dig it there. 

[They dig a grave. 
Mark it out longer. Phaon, go and bring 
Water, and wood to heat it, that at least 
Some decent burial rites you may perform 
To my poor corpse. My corpse ! great gods ! no, stay ! 
Some one will see you. This, then, is my grave ! 
Pave it, Epaphroditus, with these slabs 
Of broken marble, — so. Ay, that is right. 



Scene XL] NERO. 27 1 

My grave ! my grave ! And is it come to this, 
Menecrates ? 

Men. Oh, Caesar, do not weep ! 

Nero. Think what an artist perishes in me ! 

Men. Ay, Caesar. 

Nero. I shall never act again; 

Never shall play; never shall sing again; 
Never shall model ; never paint again ; — 
All's over now ! It is so hard to die ; 
I am so young ; oh cruel, cruel fate ! 
Is't not, Menecrates ? 

Men. Ay, 'tis, my lord. 

Death always comes too soon, — to young and old. 

Nero. But I am still so young. I meant to dance 
The Play of Turnus. Oh, so many things 
I meant to do ! 

Epaph. Caesar, one thing remains — 

The last — to do. Be brave — die like a man ! 

Nero. I will ! I will ! First swear that none shall lop 
My head from off my trunk when I am dead. 

Pha. My lord, we swear. 

Nero. Hark, there is some one comes ! 



272 NERO. [Act V. 

Who is it, Phaon ? 

Pha. 'Tis a courier. 

Nero. Then they have tracked us ? 
Pha. So it seems, my lord. 

No — 'tis a friend. 

[Courier enters with a letter to Phaox. 
Mess. A letter. 

Nero. Read it, Phaon. What is it? 

Pha. Caesar, I read : The Senate judges you 
To be an enemy, — ordains your death 
After the "ancient custom." 

Nero. What is that ? 

Epaph. To strip you, thrust your neck into a fork, 
. And, thus transfixed, scourge you to death with rods. 
Nero. Great God ! it cannot be ! 
Epaph. Caesar, it is. 

Nero. Give me the daggers. Ay, their points are keen ; 
They will let life out very easily. 
And then, death, death. — blank death ! Farewell, my 

friends ! 
Farewell ! 

[Puts the daggers to his breast — then 
recoils and throws them down. 



Scene XL] NERO. 273 

I cannot, oh, I cannot do it ! 
My fatal hour is not yet come. 

Epaph. Be brave, 

Caesar, and strike ! 

Nero. I cannot. Take them, you. 

Strike yourself first, and teach me how to die. 
I know not how to do it. Teach me how. 

Men. Strike, "'Caesar ! End it ! 'Tis not hard to 

die. 
Nero. Oh, Sporus ! weep for me. Begin the 
wail, 
For I must die ! 

Pha. Caesar, protract no more. 

Nero. Oh, Phaon, oh ! Will no one die with 
me ? 
I cannot strike. Yet, living thus, I live 
A shameful life. Nero ! decide at once ! 
This life becomes you not — becomes you not \ 
Rouse, rouse yourself, and act ! 

Hark, what is that ? 
"The sound of the swift-footed horses now strikes 
on my ears.'* 



274 NERO. [Act V. 

The hour has come. 

[Seizes the dagger and stabs himself, 
but ineffectually. 
Epaphroditus, help ! 

[Epaphroditus assists him to kill 
himself. 

Enter Centurion. 

Cent. How ! Dying ? Let me staunch his blood 
with this. 

[Covers the wound with his cloak. 
Nero. Too late. Is this your fealty? 

[Dies. 
Pha. He is dead. 

Sporus. How his eyes stare ! 'Tis fearful — hor- 
rible ! 
Pha. A frightful sight ! There ; cover up his face. 
Epaph. Oh what a life was his ! And what a 

death ! 
Sporus. Nero ! farewell ! Yes, I will weep for 
you, 
For you were ever good and kind to me. 



Scene XL] NERO. 275 

Cent. Lay him out straight upon his couch. Compose 
His straggling limbs, ere back to Rome we bear 
This senseless clay — once Caesar, nothing now; 
Once lord of all — now lorded o'er by Death ; 
That he, cold corse, one triumph more may take — 
His last, his funeral triumph to the tomb. 



THE END. 



PRINTED BY WILLIAM BLACKWOOD AND SOMS. 



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